


Heart of a Dragon

by FrozenEagle



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, eventual edeleth, nabatean!edelgard, now it's looking like it might develop into something, started as a one shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25406425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrozenEagle/pseuds/FrozenEagle
Summary: What if, rather than just giving Edelgard a second Crest, TWSITD decided to take it a step further? What if, centuries ago, the romance between two comrades in arms was the start of one of Fódlan's most powerful families? What if two souls who are both so similar and so different, found comfort in each other after losing everything?
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg & Hubert von Vestra, Edelgard von Hresvelg & Rhea, Flayn & Edelgard von Hresvelg, Wilhelm Paul Hresvelg & Rhea, Wilhelm Paul Hresvelg/Rhea
Comments: 37
Kudos: 157





	1. Prologue: A New Family

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a series of prompts on my Tumblr, and it has developed enough in my head I thought I'd share here. I'm not sure how far I'm going to take this idea, but it was too good not to at least explore. Updates will likely be all over the place, but I'll try to keep it somewhat consistent.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the War Against Nemesis, two key players on the side of the Church fell in love. At what might have been an inconvenient time. But they both had lost their families, and the idea of starting a new one was too good to pass up. Little did they know that such an idea ended up changing Fódlan forever.

_Imperial Year 33_

_Something_ was wrong, Seiros was _sure_ of it. She staggered back to her cot after running a cool, damp cloth over her face, and flopped down with little grace. She groaned as she clutched her abdomen, praying to the Goddess that the world would stop spinning so much.

Someone _must_ have poisoned her. Or rather, _is_ poisoning her because this is the fifth day in a row she’s woken up like this.

“Seiros!” A singsong voice floated through the opening of her tent, all bright and chipper.

“Come in,” Seiros managed to call out, gulping as she felt her stomach heave again.

It was Rowena, which was probably good considering her current situation. How Cichol had ever managed to find, woo, marry, and have a child with such a woman so… _different_ from himself had always been a mystery. But it was times like these that Seiros was thankful she was around.

Rowena frowned when she spotted her companion curled up on her cot. “Another rough morning?” she asked, producing some herbs from her bag and setting them down on the desk. She pushed aside some of the war maps and got to work making a nausea remedy.

“We really must…find whoever’s...responsible for this,” Seiros grumbled.

Rowena brought over the concoction and wordlessly handed it over. As Seiros brought it to her mouth, she caught her friend’s knowing, and worryingly _smug_ grin. She gulped anxiously and asked, “What?”

“I think I know who’s responsible,” Rowena teased, “You might want to have a word with Wilhelm.”

“Why would _he_ be poisoning me?”

“ _Poisoning_?” Rowena’s gleeful laugh filled the tent, though Seiros was still at a loss as to _why_ , “Oh my _dear_ , _please_ tell me all this war planning and scheming hasn’t clouded your head _that_ much!”

“I…I don’t understand…”

Rowena reached out and took Seiros’ hands in hers, and gently pulled her up into a sitting position. “Seiros, my dear,” she said softly, breathlessly happy for her friend, “You’re _pregnant_.”

“…I’m… _what_?”

Rowena chuckled. “Don’t worry. That news always takes a moment to sink in.”

“I’m _what_?”

“ _Expecting_ , Sweetie.”

“But… I…I _can’t_ be _pregnant_!” Seiros cried, “We’re fighting a _war_! I’m _leading_ the war! A…and Wilhelm and I… I mean… We _did_ , but he’s human and I’m…not…” She gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth as it finally, _finally_ hit. “Oh _Goddess_ I’m _pregnant._ ”

“I don’t think you have much to worry about,” Rowena assured her, “It isn’t unheard of for our kind to have children with humans. And it’s not like you’ll be in this alone. I’ll be here, and so will the others. And of course there’s Wilhelm.”

“Oh _Goddess_ … _Wilhelm_!” Seiros exclaimed, “I…I have to tell him!”

“Knowing Wilhelm I imagine he’ll be rather excited, too,” Rowena added.

“But what about the others?” Seiros demanded, “Cichol and Indech I’m not too worried about, but Macuil will be _furious_ , I _know_ it.”

“Oh don’t you worry about that old windbag,” Rowena sighed, “If he gives you any problems, send him to me.” She suddenly clapped her hands together, bouncing a little in excitement. “Oh little Ceth will finally have someone she can play with!”

“I’m _pregnant_ ,” Seiros murmured, suddenly feeling nauseous for a different reason. _This_ was something completely out of her wheelhouse. She could lead an army. She could wield a sword. She could kick anyone’s ass with just her _fists_ if she had to.

She could _not_ picture herself as a mother.

She sighed heavily and buried her face in her hands, trying not to think too deeply about how this was going to affect her war against Nemesis.

“Oh _Wilhelm_! What perfect timing!” Rowena greeted cheerfully.

“Very funny, Wena,” Seiros groaned.

“Oh! I’m…sorry… Is this a bad time?”

Her head snapped up in an instant. “Wilhelm! No, it’s… Actually Rowena’s right: it’s perfect timing,” she said quickly.

“I’ll…give you two some privacy,” Rowena said, making her way to the door of the tent. She slipped out quickly, but Seiros could tell by the shadow cast against the canvas walls that Rowena’s definition of “privacy” was a tad skewed.

“Is everything alright my Love?” Wilhelm asked, a look of concern marring his gentle face, “Have you been sick again?”

Seiros was momentarily lost in his warm hazel eyes, but she shook her head briskly to bring herself back. “I…yes, I have,” she admitted, “And Rowena believes she’s found out the reason why.”

“It’s not poison, is it? I swear on my life I’ll find the bastard that’s been doing this to you and—“

“It’s not…poison, Wilhelm,” Seiros cut in with a wince. She patted the space on the cot next to her, and Wilhelm readily sat down beside her. She worked her hands into his, and gave a small squeeze. “My Light,” she breathed, “I’m _pregnant_.”

There was a pause, as the information sunk in. Then a brilliant smile - as bright as the sun itself - worked its way onto Wilhelm’s face. “You _are_?” he gasped, laughing with joy. He leapt up from his seat, dragging her along with him. He twirled around the tent with her in his arms, before slowing to pull her into a tight hug. “That’s _wonderful_ , my Love!” he sighed.

Then he stopped, pulling away while still holding tight to her arms. “That… _is_ wonderful, right? I… If you’re not… What I mean is, I know you’ve got your own—"

She put a finger on his lips, a common action of hers whenever the excitable man began to ramble. “It…it _is_ wonderful,” she assured him, “I just…never thought it would happen to _me_.”

He chuckled. “I have to admit, knowing _you_ I can believe that,” he said, tucking a lock of her emerald hair behind a pointed ear. She cast him a playful glare and he smiled innocently in response. “But…” he continued, “Wouldn’t this mean that… Well, we’ll be a _family_. You, me, and the little brawler waiting to come out.”

She snorted at the thought. “I should hope the child decides to become a brawler _after_ they are born, my Light,” she stated. But then her mood sobered, as the rest of his statement was realized. “A… _family_ …”

He frowned when he saw her eyes beginning to glaze over. “If it’s too soon, my Love, I…”

“No. No, it’s…” Tears began to form in her eyes, and slowly a large smile spread across her face. She could barely contain her joy as she uttered, “I’ll have a _family_ again.”

— — — 

She held the bundle close to her chest, still exhausted and sore. But a tiny hand had a tight hold of her finger, and wide, green eyes stared up at her. The child in her arms giggled, then, and tightened his grip.

“He’s incredible,” Wilhelm breathed as he watched over her shoulder, “So…small. But incredible.”

“He’ll grow to be a great Emperor someday,” Seiros sighed, looking up to meet the gaze of the newly-crowned Emperor of Adrestia.

“Hopefully _he’ll_ know more of what he’s doing,” Wilhelm stated anxiously.

Seiros reached for her Light’s hand. “He’ll have an excellent role model,” she assured him gently.

In her arms, little Lycaon reached for his Papa and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my take on Rhea and Wilhelm. We don’t really know a whole lot and the stuff we do know comes from fairly shaky sources. We know Rhea - then Seiros - had some kind of relationship with Wilhelm but we don’t know the extent. We also know Wilhelm had a son, but we don’t know with who.
> 
> So what if Rhea is the matriarch of the Hresvelg legacy?
> 
> I’m going to expand on this more later, but for now I wanted to first, answer this prompt, and second, cover something I probably wasn’t going to cover in my longer fic.
> 
> So here are my headcanons that appear here and will likely pop up later:
> 
> Rhea and Wilhelm genuinely loved each other. They met when Rhea was in a dark place, having lost her family and unsure of where to turn next. Wilhelm was a kindhearted farmer who wanted to help her out, saved her life from some of Nemesis’ men by sacrificing himself, and was then saved by her in turn when she gave him her Crest in the healing process. From there, their relationship blossomed. Rhea calls him her “Light” because he brought light and warmth back into her life when she thought it was all gone (much like how El views Byleth...hmm, symbolism...)
> 
> Rhea tells Wilhelm that Nemesis destroyed her family, but doesn’t go into details. He respects her enough to not push for more answers, though he is curious. He always hopes that one day she’ll trust him enough to open up.
> 
> The other Saints join the fight against Nemesis at Rhea’s insistence, but they stay for Wilhelm. He’s a charismatic guy, a hell of a warrior, and a kindhearted man, and he wins over Cichol and Indech with little effort. Macuil, however, never trusts him and acts like the scary big brother protecting his little sister (Seiros).
> 
> Rowena is my take on Seteth’s wife/Flayn’s mother. I picture her as a Nabatean, just not one of the powerful saints. (I always kinda pictured it like a hierarchy of Sothis first, then the Children of the Goddess/Saints, then lesser Nabateans forming the bulk of the community.) Like Flayn, she’s mostly a healer and has a bubbly personality. She brings out the fun and happiness in Seteth, and after her death he struggles to feel such things again. Her loss was heavily felt by all, due to how friendly she was with everyone.
> 
> The reason Edelgard doesn’t look more like Rhea/only has a minor Crest of Seiros, etc. is due to the fact that it’s been centuries since Rhea gave birth to Lycaon. The Nabatean traits eventually fade, as Rhea is the only Nabatean to ever continue the line in the Hresvelg family. Crest-strength and other traits shared by Nabateans eventually faded as more human genetics were added in. (This is also why I HC Flayn as having two Nabatean parents rather than just one.)
> 
> Rhea, having lost Wilhelm in the war and then watching her son grow old while she stayed young, disconnects from those types of relationships once the heartbreak becomes too much. In her altered history, she makes sure Lycaon’s mother is listed as unknown, and eventually the number of people who did know becomes only her close, remaining family. And she swears them to secrecy. Eventually, the connection she and the Church have with the Hresvelg family shifts and breaks, and it eventually becomes unimportant that the Imperial family literally wouldn’t have existed without her.
> 
> Perhaps that was a dumb decision, along with some of the other dumb decisions she made back then, but I also headcanon that Nabateans age very slowly. So while she was probably around 100+ years old by then, for a seemingly immortal being who appears to be in her 30s? 40s? nearly 1100 years later, her emotional age by that point would have been maybe late teenager? Early twenties? Around the same emotional age that Edelgard was when she decided that there would be no potential flaws in her Flame Emperor stunt. That’s not to diss either of them - it’s just that they were young, and dealing with emotional shit far too heavy for any one person to deal with. So Rhea’s choices back around year 90 through to year 100 should probably be taken with a grain of salt.
> 
> All those centuries don’t make it any easier, though, when Edelgard declares war on her ancestor unknowingly, and through all the anger and betrayal Rhea feels she can see the same passion and fire in the girl that Wilhelm once had.


	2. Chapter One: A Change in Constitution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard has just been released from the dungeon, now an only child with stark white hair. But the things they did to her down there aren't quite finished changing her, and it becomes clear that things will never be the same.

_Imperial Year 1174_

She was the only one who made it out of that dungeon. She couldn’t even say she made it out in one piece. They had cut her open, removing and adding so many things, that she wasn’t sure if anything was missing or not. Her _heart_ felt like it was missing - her figurative heart, that is. It felt like it had been ripped out and stomped on, leaving nothing but tiny fragments too small to ever put back together and a void in her chest.

She looked into her mirror and a stranger stared back. Pale skin, white hair, sunken, empty eyes. The colour had once been such a vibrant lilac but now they almost looked like a dusty brown, mostly cool grey with just a touch of warm purple left. The girl in her mirror was thin - barely more than skin and bones. And she bore a haunted look that made her more like some kind of ghost unable to move on from the mortal realm.

She certainly _felt_ that way.

She winced as a flare-up came. Whatever those _creatures_ had done to her was still taking hold of her, still _changing_ her. She could feel the foreign magic burning through her veins, shooting through her bones and writhing under her skin. She didn’t know what they did to her, only that they seemed happy about it. Which was why she was permitted to move back into her old room.

They wouldn’t tell her what they had done. Only telling her that she would be a part of something far grander than herself.

When she would go to conjure her Crest, another one would try to manifest first. One she had never seen before. One that felt a lot stronger than her Crest of Seiros, but it also strangely _spoke_ to her Crest. Like it was trying to join with it, _embrace_ it, in a way.

She was so _tired_. It was getting hard to breathe again. So she laid down in her bed that felt softer than she deserved and fell into a deep slumber.

\---

She awoke and felt better. Healthier. Stronger. She drew a deep breath and her chest no longer hurt. When she pushed herself up, she could feel muscle in her arms again, and her skin looked warmer. Still covered in scars, but many looked like they had healed significantly.

When her eyes landed on her mirror across the room, she froze, petrified by shock and fear. A small, strangled gasp escaped her lips. There was a stranger staring back at her, but it was a _different_ stranger.

The second stranger’s hair was mostly the same white it was on the first, but now the ends of the long strands were a soft, light shade of emerald green. Her eyes, at least, seemed to have regained some of their lilac colour...or rather, _one_ of them did. The other had turned a shade of green to mach the ends of her hair. There was flesh on her bones again, her skin a much healthier complexion, and the deep shadows under her eyes were gone. But her _ears_...they were _pointy._

She tentatively reached up to confirm what she was seeing, gently pinching the new, pointed tip of her ear with shaky fingers.

She slowly got out of bed and walked toward the mirror, resting one hand on its cool surface. The other toyed with her newly coloured hair as she continued to take in what _had_ to be a dream. It just...it _had_ to be.

Was she...was she even still _Edelgard_ anymore? That one violet eye was the only part left of her now.

There was a knock on her door that startled her enough to make her jump, the mirror rocking dangerously from her sudden movement. Before she could say anything, the door opened and in skulked a monster in her uncle’s skin.

“Ah, so Sleeping Beauty finally woke up from her slumber,” he greeted cooly, ignoring how she froze in fear and shrunk in on herself as he approached. He took her chin in his hand and deeply scrutinized her appearance. “Hmm, not a full transformation, it would seem,” he muttered.

“What...what happened to me?” she stammered. She glared at him with all that she had, but he didn’t even _flinch_ at her attempt. “What did you _do_?”

“We made you something _more_ , your Highness,” he replied, his voice eerily smooth, “However I won’t know for sure until you conjure it.”

“Conjure... _what_?”

“Your _Crest_ , Edelgard.”

She gulped nervously and held one hand out. Despite the trembling in her body, she found focus, and called upon the magic within her blood. Red energy danced from her palm and into the air, twisting and looping until the Crest of Seiros formed.

“Not _that_ one,” her Uncle sighed, his non-existent patience wearing thin with her already, “Your _new_ one.”

But she thought she _was_ calling for her new one. Suddenly she gasped in pain. She felt her magic surge, exploding from her chest, through her arm and out into her manifested Crest of Seiros. Purple tendrils of energy wrapped around her original Crest, seemingly strangling it like a vine strangling a rose. For a brief moment, the red Crest of Seiros and the purple Crest of Flames existed together, overlapping above her hand.

Then they _both_ turned green, creating the form of an entirely _new_ Crest.

Her uncle bore a sickening grin that made her blood run cold.

“What a good little test subject you are,” he cooed, reaching out to the new Crest as if to try and take it from the air. It broke her concentration, and the Crest disappeared before he could touch it, much to his annoyance. But still, he smiled at her the same way he would when he visited her and her siblings in the dungeons.

“What did you _do_?” she demanded, taking a step away from him, only for her back to meet her mirror.

“You should be _thanking_ me, really,” her Uncle told her, his voice still dangerously calm, “Think of all the _good_ you will do now! You will be such a great help to our cause.”

“But what did you _do_?” she asked again, feeling tears prickling in her eyes.

He stalked closer to her, and her heart began to beat for rapidly she thought it might explode out of the still-healing scar tissue on her chest. As he moved forward, he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small, silver and glass device.

She recognized it. That...that _thing_ in his hand was something she feared _more_ than rats and chains. They called it a syringe - an instrument consisting of a long, thin needle-like apparatus connected to a glass tube, and a plunger on the other end of the tube. And either empty or full, they would always stab the needle into her skin. When it was empty, they would suck out some of her own blood. When full - often with some glowing, ominous liquid - they would push the contents _in_. And she’d write in pain and agony for _hours_ , after. Sometimes they would even use _both_ kinds of syringes at the same time.

This one was empty, but why her uncle wanted her blood only further added to the question he refused to answer. She tried to run, to make use of the fact that she was no longer bound by chains, but he grabbed her before she could. He had her by the collar, forcing her roughly up against the mirror. He took the syringe and plunged it deep into the base of her neck.

She fought and squirmed but it was of little use. Thankfully, he got what he needed and released her. As she fell to her knees, the mirror toppled over as well, shattering on the floor into thousands of pieces. Each piece reflected a terrified girl she didn’t recognize, trembling and pathetic on the cold ground.

She looked up and to her horror, spotted what was in the syringe. It was _supposed_ to be her blood. But the last time she checked, her blood wasn’t supposed to be _green_.

“I really must thank you, Little El,” her uncle sneered, “You’ve provided a great service to us.”

He then turned and left, leaving her alone with her shattered reflection.

\---

It was late at night when she finally mustered the courage to leave her room. It partly felt _wrong_ , that she could just...waltz out of an enclosed space and into the wider world after so long being unable to do that. But she also didn’t want anyone to see her. Would they even still _recognize_ her? How could they when she barely could herself?

She clutched a shard of mirror in her hand, uncaring of how the edges cut into her skin. She just...she needed to check, every now and then. Maybe all of this _was_ just a terrible nightmare and her brown hair and lilac eyes will return in time.

She had skipped every meal and at first couldn’t stomach any of the food that had been sent to her. But now she felt the gnawing pain of hunger in her gut and she went out to raid the kitchen for a snack. As she crept through the halls, ducking into shadows whenever she heard footsteps, she stumbled upon something that made her pause.

It was a portrait of Saint Seiros.

Edelgard looked down at her reflection in the mirror shard, and then up again at the painting. It...it _couldn’t_ be...

“Lady _Edelgard_?”

She whipped around, free hand reaching for the dagger she had found sitting on her dresser. But she didn’t have to unsheathe it. As her initial panic faded, a small smile worked its way on her face. “ _Hubert_!” she gasped happily, racing forward and throwing her arms around the older boy, “It’s _you_! I...I was afraid they might have...”

Hubert stood stalk still in her arms, and eventually pulled away to regard her further. “My Lady,” he breathed, olive eyes scanning her changed features with hidden distress, “What have they _done_ to you?”

She swallowed hard, and told herself forcefully not to cry. “I...I don’t know,” she admitted, “They...they gave me a second Crest, Hubert. At least, I _thought_ that’s what they did but... I don’t know anymore.”

Pain flashed across Hubert’s face for an instant, before he pulled her back into a tight embrace. And now it was _her_ turn to be shocked, because Hubert _never_ willingly hugged anyone. “I thought I lost you,” he murmured, “Forgive me, Lady Edelgard, I... I _failed_. I failed to protect you. I...I _tried_ to protect you, but they...”

“It’s ok, Hubert,” she whispered back, relishing in the small comfort of hugging someone she cared about, “They would have killed you if you tried.”

“And then they released you, but...” Hubert continued, “You were asleep for so long I thought you would never wake.”

“ _What_?” She pulled away, staring at him with building worry, “I...I was only asleep for a night. Perhaps a day, maybe...”

Hubert frowned in concern, slowly shaking his head. “My Lady, you were asleep for almost _two months_ ,” he told her.

It felt as though the floor had fallen out from underneath her. That...that _couldn’t_ be right. It felt like just yesterday that she was taking in her room for the first time since her imprisonment. Had it really been _two months_?

Although that might explain why she felt so much healthier. She had been asleep through the worst of the healing process.

She glanced back up at the portrait of Seiros. The Faith of the Church of Seiros had been drilled into her head since before she could _read -_ coming from a family supposedly _blessed_ by Seiros herself would result in that. So she was no stranger to scripture, and now one verse was sticking out in her mind: “...And so Seiros, gravely wounded from the battle of Teutates, slept for forty days and forty nights. And when she awoke, her health had been fully restored...”

“My Lady?” Hubert wondered as she muttered the verse to herself.

Part of her wanted to abandon the Faith all together. Despite her curiosity, she felt a burning resentment as she stared up at the Saint who was supposed to protect her. That’s what _everyone_ had told her as they drilled prayers and scripture and ritual into her head as a child - that the Saints and the Goddess love and protect all that is good in the world. So what did it mean, then, that despite spending every waking hour praying for salvation, the Goddess and the Saints hadn’t deemed her _or_ her siblings as worthy enough to save. There hadn’t even been a sign to keep hope or faith... They had just... _abandoned_ their children when they were needed most.

But now she couldn’t deny that the same Faith she wanted to denounce might be the only place with answers.

“We need to go to Garreg Mach,” Edelgard breathed, gazing down at her reflection in the mirror shard, “The Archbishop might know what has happened to me. I...I think, whatever it is, it has something to do with Saint Seiros.”

Hubert’s frown deepened, but he nodded. “It might be for the best, anyway,” he sighed, “We should flee this place before they try to do any more to you.”

Edelgard nodded. “Tonight, then,” she stated, “Pack a light bag for the journey and then meet me in the stables. To get over the gates without being detected we’ll need a pegasus.”

Hubert tried and failed to hide his anxiousness. “So we will be... _flying_...to Garreg Mach?” he confirmed with a small, worried gulp.

She sent him a sympathetic smile. “It’s the fastest way,” she said, “But once we get far enough from Enbarr, we can walk, if you like.”

“It’s alright, my Lady,” Hubert told her, “It would be better for me to get over my fear of heights sooner rather than later.”

\---

Edelgard quietly stepped into her father’s study. She headed to the desk, littered with parchment and quills, and books of Adrestian Law and records stacked almost over her head. She cleared off an area directly in front of the chair, and left a rolled up letter in the space.

She had no idea how long she would be gone, and she didn’t want her father to worry.

She then headed for the stables. Hubert was already there, a bag packed with food and a couple of blankets slung over one shoulder. “I’ve already bribed the stable master,” he said as she approached, “Courtesy of Marquis Vestra himself. We are free to take a pegasus and no one will ever know where it went.”

Edelgard frowned. “Are you sure stealing from your father is wise at this time?” she asked, “What if he notices?”

“He won’t notice until later,” Hubert assured her, “Besides, we’re already doing a number of things that would anger him and his... _allies_.” He looked visibly disgusted by the thought, practically spitting the word. “I’m sure a couple gold pieces missing won’t hurt.”

“Except if you were _sloppy_ , Hubert. As always.”

Now the dagger _did_ come out of her sheath, and she whipped around at the sound of the new, menacing voice behind her.

“ _Father_ ,” Hubert hissed, dark magic gathering in his palm, “What brings _you_ here?”

“I should be asking you the same question, _boy_ ,” Marquis Vestra sneered, gesturing to the bag, “And where might you two be off to?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Hubert snapped, “You _will_ let us leave, or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll _what_?” A new voice emerged from the shadows, cold and heartless and so _terrifyingly_ calm. Volkhard von Arundel stepped out of the darkness behind them, flanked on both sides by mages in bird-like masks.

“U...uncle!” Edelgard gasped, moving to cover Hubert’s back. More mages appeared out of the darkness, and it became evident quickly that they were surrounded.

“Oh _Edelgard_ ,” Volkhard sighed, “I’m disappointed. We gave you this freedom because you were such a good subject, but _this_ is how you use it?”

“You _never_ gave me freedom!” Edelgard cried, “You weren’t ever going to, were you? You just want to _use me_!”

He chuckled, mirthlessly, and sent her a sinister smile. “Did it _seriously_ take you this long to figure it out?” he laughed, “Although I suppose you _were_ in a coma for some time.”

“I...I won’t let you!” she stated, defiant, brandishing the dagger toward him, “I am not some _tool_ for you to use and dispose of!”

His smile disappeared, his withering glare so intense it sucked any courage she might have had clean out of her. Then he _laughed_. His maniacal laughter echoed through the courtyard, his voice a distorted and twisted mutation of her uncle’s once joyous laughter. “You _won’t let me_?” he cackled. His face fell again, growing deadly serious in a heartbeat. “When have you _ever_ had a choice?” he growled.

He motioned to his men, and barked, “Seize her!”

The bird-headed mages lunged, one of them managing to grab her by her back collar. She swung around and buried her dagger into the mage’s side, but another was there to nab her arm before she could get it free.

“Lady Edelgard!” Hubert exclaimed, spinning around to help. But he was yanked back by someone grabbing _his_ collar.

“Not so fast, _boy_!” Marquis Vestra sneered into his ear, pulling him away from the fight, “There’s still the matter of _your_ punishment.”

Hubert fought under his father’s tight grip. “ _No_!” he shouted viciously, lobbing spells randomly behind him, “I won’t let her go again!”

Edelgard pushed and pulled against the hands that grabbed her with all her might. Her eyes landed on Hubert, also in a fight of his own, slowly being dragged further and further away from her.

“Take her back to the cell!” Volkhard shouted over the commotion, “We’ll have to wait until she is more subdued before allowing her out again.”

His words were like a poisoned arrow, finding her heart and spreading fear rapidly throughout her body. She only fought harder, more desperately, as the hands around her arms, legs, and throat began to feel more and more like the chains she dreaded so much.

Hubert heard the decree, too. And with a roar of rage, he managed to land a hit on his father. As his father reared back from the dark ball of magic to his face, Hubert broke free and began running toward her.

Marquis Vestra recovered, and with a furious glare, aimed his hand charged with dark magic of his own directly at his own son.

Hubert let out a agonized cry as dark energy engulfed him, the strike sending him down in an instant. Edelgard could only watch helplessly as her last and only friend lay on the ground, seriously hurt. “ _Hubert!”_ screamed, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

She kept fighting, kept _pushing_. She had to break free. She had to help _him_. She had to get them both out of there, _now_. She was terrified and desperate and _furious_. She let out another scream, raw and primal, as those emotions overwhelmed her.

Except it wasn’t a scream. It was a _roar_.

Green fire exploded around her, creating an energy wave powerful enough to send the mages holding her flying. Everything felt fuzzy as a dizzying amount of magic seemed to surge within her. Her vision darkened, and for a moment, she thought she had passed out.

But then she awoke and she was back in front of the stable, too many of her uncle’s men surrounding her and Hubert still lying on the ground. But she still felt strange. She felt... _taller_.

“It actually _worked_!” Volkhard exclaimed, excitement and disbelief clear in his voice. But then he was back to his usual cruel self. “Don’t just _stand there_!” he shouted as his men, “We can’t let her escape _now_!”

A couple of them rushed her from behind, and with a powerful swing of her tail, she swatted them away.

... _What_.

She looked down at her hands, only they _weren’t_ her hands. They almost looked like an eagle’s talons, her fingers now long and tipped with sharp, curved claws and covered in thick, deep black scales. She looked down further and saw her body had received a similar treatment, coated in heavy armoured plates and bright red feathers. Something moved on her back and they were _wings_ , large and powerful, resembling those of a black eagle’s. And her tail...her _tail_...looked just like the rest of her: red feathers running down the length, with gold, red, and black feathers fanning out at the end.

She was broken out of her petrified shock when an arrow bounced off the thick hide on her shoulder. Guards were running over, clearly concerned about the sudden appearance of a large, red _dragon_ on palace grounds.

Marquis Vestra was stalking over to Hubert, and suddenly instincts she didn’t even _know_ about kicked in. It felt as though her body was operating on its own accord, and she was along for the ride. Which...was probably a good thing because the rational part of her mind was too stupefied by what had just happened to her.

She surged forward, placing her self - on all _fours_ , of all things! - over Hubert and snarling like a rabid dog. Apparently, that had been intimidating enough for the Marquis to stop, but he then charged another ball of dark energy in his hands and sent it her way. Unlike the spears, swords, and arrows, magic worked its way past her new armour and burned far more than she ever thought possible.

She roared in pain before swinging her clawed hand toward him. The other mages began bombarding her with spells of their own, each strike feeling like hellfire. One particularly powerful spell struck her and sent her down to the ground with a tremendous crash. The noise and destruction of the stable spooked all the pegasi, as they took to the air in a flurry of feathers and frightened whinnying.

She noticed Hubert beginning to come-to on the ground, and his father trying to approach him again. “ _Stay away from him_!” she roared, even her _voice_ changed by this new form. Her magic surged again, she could feel it beginning to burn in the back of her throat. Once again, instinct took over and opened her mouth wide - releasing an intense stream of pure magic and fire directly at the Marquis.

He only just managed to dodge, but now was stuck on the other side of dragonfire from the rest of the fight.

Hubert began to push himself up, and their eyes met for a moment that seemed to freeze time. “Lady... _Edelgard_?” he uttered.

Another blast of powerful magic struck her, originating from Volkhard himself. Hubert shot to his feet and sent out a spell of his own, one that managed to distract her uncle from readying another devastating blow.

“ _Go_ , Edelgard!” Hubert shouted over the flames and shouting, “I’ll hold them off!”

She pushed herself up to her feet and extended her massive wings. But she wasn’t leaving just yet. “ _Forgive me Hubert_ ,” she said as she reached down, carefully scooping her friend up and awkwardly throwing him on her back, “ _But I’m not leaving without you_.”

“Wait,” Hubert demanded as he saw her wings twitching in preparation, “Do you even know _how_ to-”

She surged forward, leaping over her uncle and his men and building speed across the courtyard. Then, with a loud _whoosh_ and a powerful flap of her wings, they were off the ground. They dipped almost immediately, Edelgard not at _all_ used to flying _herself_. She forced her rational mind to take a backseat once again, allowing the instinct of her new body to take over.

She could faintly feel Hubert’s death grip on the feathers running down her neck.

\---

Dawn was breaking over Garreg Mach monastery. Archbishop Rhea stood on her balcony overlooking the main courtyard, breathing in the fresh morning air with a serene smile. The academy was currently on a break, allowing its students to spend some time at home with family and friends before classes kept them away for the rest of the year. As a result, there was a sense of peace and quiet now that there weren’t students and faculty running all around, wandering the halls and courtyards or occupying its many learning spaces. Even as early as dawn, there would normally be a fair amount of eager students up and heading to the dining hall for breakfast. It was nice, now, to have the morning mostly to herself.

But then she heard a sound. It sounded almost like the screech of a Demonic Beast, but less distorted. Most people wouldn’t be able to tell the difference but _she_ could. Her heart began to beat, fast and intense, as she picked up the sound of large wings straining under exhaustion. She scanned the sky and picked out the shape of a winged-beast, flying as if it had just seen battle.

Her first thought was Macuil, because Indech couldn’t fly and she could see that the wings were feathered. But why would he come _here_? Unless perhaps he was in grave danger.

She turned and raced for the door to head down to the main courtyard.

As she threw open the main doors, the beast crested over the walls of Garreg Mach and crashed into the courtyard, skidding across the ground and tearing up cobblestone as it did. And now that she could see the dragon, she felt her heart stop dead in her chest.

That was not Macuil.

There was a human boy who had been thrown from the dragon’s back in the crash. He had pushed himself up despite his injuries and rushed to the dragon’s side, seeming distraught and fearful.

Rhea hadn’t realized it right away but she had started _running_.

The dragon’s body shuddered and it let out a pained moan. The scales and feathers began to lift from its body, turning to bright red petals that danced in the early morning breeze. As the petals peeled away, it revealed a girl - perhaps maybe thirteen years of age? - who looked like she had been through the depths of hell and back. Her tattered clothes revealed scars more horrific than anything Rhea had ever seen, her body thin and weak, her breath laboured and pain evident on her face.

“Edelgard!” the boy cried, scooping the girl up in his arms and holding her tight. Rhea arrived at the crash site and he met her gaze with eyes that had seen far too much pain and suffering for such a young thing. “You _must_ help her,” he demanded, motioning to the girl in his arms.

“Who are you?” It was all Rhea could say. All she could _think_. Because she thought she knew everyone who remained in her family. And she didn’t know _her_.

“Hubert,” the boy told her quickly, “Hubert von Vestra.” He hugged the girl a little closer when she let out a small groan. “And this is Edelgard von Hresvelg. She...she thinks you might be able to help her. _Please_ help her.”

She almost didn’t hear his desperate plea, her mind having been immediately transported back in time at the mention of that name. “ _Wilhelm_...” she murmured, too quiet for anyone to hear.

She shook her head sharply. There would be time to reminisce later. Along with asking questions and getting answers. Right now the poor girl needed medical attention and a good rest.

She nodded to Hubert, and motioned toward the main doors of the monastery. “Follow me,” she said, “And do not worry: I won’t let anything happen to her ever again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two things at play here that I've always wanted to explore: the first being Edelgard as a dragon. I don't know why, but I think it would suit her nicely. The second being her Crests combining into one new Crest. Maybe TWSITD were done trying to raid crypts and tombs for old dragon bones - maybe if they could figure out a way to make new Crests out of existing ones, then they'd have potentially unlimited new resources. And what better two to combine than the two most powerful?
> 
> El becoming a Nabatean would really screw with the canon, which is why if I continue this, it will likely deviate drastically from here. But I do like the idea of both her and Rhea finding a new family in each other, the two of them finding comfort for their past traumas. El would still grow up to be a rebellious, stubborn leader and Rhea still struggles with mental instability but what's different is they aren't facing the world alone anymore.
> 
> And Thales had better watch his back.


	3. Chapter Two: A New Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thales hatches a plan, and Rhea speaks with Edelgard about what has happened to her.

“You _imbeciles_!” 

“Y…your grace, I understand you are angry, but—“ 

“Do you have _any_ idea what you just _lost us_?” 

Volkhard paced furiously back and forth across the damp, cold stones of the dungeon floor. Marquis Vestra was there, wrapping bandages around a burn on his arm. Duke Aegir was also present, watching as the regent reamed his men out for their failures with a smug grin on his face. 

“And tell me again why you can’t just make another?” he sighed, “I’m sure my boy would make a good replace—“ 

A clawed hand found his throat, cutting off the rest of his sentence. He watched in horror as Volkhard’s skin melted away, revealing a man with a sickly grey complexion and white, empty eyes. “I _cannot_ make a replacement!” Thales growled furiously, “The ritual only works with those who share Nabatean blood!” With that, he threw the Duke to the side. 

“And what makes the Hresvelgs different from anyone else with a holy Crest?” Marquis Vestra asked, not phased at all by the glare Thales sent him, “I thought you said Crests are transferred by blood?” 

“They _are_. But you cannot just… _make_ something from nothing,” Thales sneered, “A human cannot become a Nabatean but if that human is _part_ Nabatean, even by the _smallest_ amount, we can pull those traits out. The Hresvelgs are the only know House in Fodlan who have _mated_ with those _creatures_!” 

Marquis Vestra snorted in derision. “If I hadn’t just witnessed the princess turn into a fire breathing dragon myself, I wouldn’t believe you,” he commented dryly. 

“ _Are_ they even documented as such? Because _I’ve_ never heard of any such thing!” Duke Aegir piped up. 

“There are _many_ things you haven’t heard about, _Aegir_ ,” Marquis Vestra jeered. 

“Enough!” Thales roared. He then huffed, and after a small pause, breathed out slowly and deeply. As he did, his human skin came crawling back over his features, and he became Volkhard von Arundel once more. “Due to my… _subordinate's_ recklessness, we are out of potential replacements for the little Princess,” he stated, his voice once more dangerously calm. 

“Oh come now, Thales: I like to think I did pretty well!” a sinister voice chuckled, coming from a freakish man hobbling out of the shadows, “One out of eleven isn’t so bad!” 

“Solon,” Volkhard greeted icily, “Glad you could finally join us.” 

Solon smiled a toothless smile, clearly not affected by the threatening tone. “I told you letting her out of her kennel would be a bad idea.” 

“And I told _you_ we _needed_ her exposed, for the world to see. You just wanted to keep her as a _blood bag_ , while I had plans to control all of _Fodlan_!” 

“And how’s that working out for you?” 

Suddenly, Solon was lifted off his feet by magic wrapping around his throat. Volkhard’s extended hand glowed, his fingers closing tighter and tighter as if he actually had the Agarthan’s neck in his hand. Solon kicked and gagged but it was no use, but before he passed out Volkhard released him and he fell to the floor. 

Volkard then skulked over and pressed a foot down on Solon’s chest, pinning him there. “Thank’s to von Vestra’s useless son, we found a map left in the bag he dropped in the fight,” he explained smoothly, “They went to Garreg Mach, presumably to get some answers.” He pressed down until he heard something crack under his foot. “I want _you_ to follow them, and keep an eye on her.” 

Solon grinned through the pain. He chuckled menacingly, and declared, “Ooh, and I _just_ collected the _perfect_ disguise, too!” 

— — — 

Edelgard’s eyes slowly fluttered open. Delicate rays of sun slowly filtered into the room, her bed was soft and warm. And there were no aches or pains in her body.

' _So it_ was _all a dream_ ,' she thought, blinking to clear the residual sleep from her eyes. But then the room came into focus, and she realized it wasn’t _her_ room. 

Wide awake now, she quickly sat up in the bed, giving herself vertigo as she did. As she groaned in pain and annoyance, gently placing one hand on her forehead, she spotted Hubert sound asleep in a chair nearby. The poor boy looked like he hadn’t slept, ate, or bathed much in a while. “Oh Hubert…” she sighed, feeling her heart clench tightly at the thought of him staying by her bedside for Goddess knew how long.

“He certainly is a noble friend.” She whipped around at the sound of the new, gentle voice coming from the other side of the bed.

“Archbishop!” she gasped in shock, unable to escape the sheer oddity of the _Archbishop of Fodlan_ sitting casually at her bedside. 

The woman in question smiled warmly. “You needn’t be so formal now, my dear,” she said softly, “Just call me _Rhea_.” And her words seemed true - she sat before Edelgard now in a simple white dress, her long, green hair flowing down past her shoulders free from its usual headdress. 

“ _Rhea_ …” she murmured in replied. She still felt unease surrounding this woman, some kind of hidden darkness kept behind fake smiles and pleasant features. But she wasn’t sure if any of that was _true_ , or if her view of the world had been tainted by her time spent in the dungeon. Rhea _seemed_ kind… But then, so did her uncle… 

Rhea frowned, knowing a troubled soul when she saw one. “How are you feeling, my dear?” she asked.

Edelgard pulled her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees. She let out a shuddering breath, her chest still feeling too hollow and her mind too full of fear. “I…I don’t know,” she admitted. She swallowed, and cast a quick glance to Hubert. “H…how long did I sleep _this_ time?” 

“Not for very long,” Rhea told her, “About two weeks. Your friend here told me about how you had initially slept for two months after you…” A shadow was cast over the Archbishop’s face, her bright green eyes almost beginning to _glow_. 

Edelgard sniffled, attempting to blink back her tears and failing.

Rhea frowned in concern, her anger shifting into something more righteous. “Know that the _monsters_ who did this to you will _not_ go unpunished,” she said confidently, “The Goddess will be their final judge, but first they will have to face _me_.” 

Edelgard shakily reached for a chunk of hair that was still silver with green at the ends, a green that came suspiciously close to that of the Archbishop’s hair. “ _What_ did they do?” she asked quietly, “ _What did they do to me_?”

Rhea winced in sympathy for the girl. She knew _what_ had been done to the princess but she didn’t know _why_ or _how_. And it seemed like the _why_ and _how_ were important pieces of the puzzle. But Edelgard wasn’t asking why just yet, and Rhea had a sinking suspicion the girl already knew _how_. “They…changed you,” she said hesitantly, realizing that explaining this would mean exposing some…painful…secrets. 

The look Edelgard gave her was _heartbreaking_ , her multi-coloured eyes wide and sad and _lost_. “So I’m really _not_ Edelgard anymore?” she whispered. 

“No, my dear,” Rhea rushed to assure, “ _Who_ you are cannot be so easily changed. In the eyes of the Goddess, you will _always_ be Edelgard. But… Well, your appearance might change.” 

“Is she…is she _really_ there? Watching? Listening?” It was a strange question, and filled with skepticism Rhea heard more often coming from hardened atheists, not impressionable children. 

“Of course she is, my Child.”

“Can she _do_ anything?” Edelgard swallowed roughly as darkness began to fill her gaze. She stared up at the Archbishop accusingly, and demanded, “Can she _actually_ protect us, or does she just _sit and watch_?” 

Rhea sighed heavily. The boy - Hubert - had told her all he knew about Edelgard’s imprisonment and torture in Enbarr. He had told her that the girl once had ten siblings, but now their bodies were still deep under the Imperial Palace, never to see the light of the sun again. It made sense, then, that the princess would have had her faith tested in a way no child should ever experience.

“I am afraid she is extremely limited in what she can and cannot do for us,” she said carefully, “Often the most she can do is give our spirits strength. And she seems to have done that for _you_ , my child.” 

Edelgard’s bottom lip trembled, and she quickly ducked her head, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the tears at bay. “Why couldn’t she have done that for all of them?” she asked, “Why only _me_?” 

Rhea opened her mouth, ready to give the standard, banal answer she gave every worshipper who asked. But Edelgard’s sadness had wormed its way into her heart and found a weakness it could relate to. Because _Rhea_ knew exactly how Edelgard felt. 

“I…I don’t know,” she said, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, “I know it seems like I speak for the Goddess, but I don’t know everything about her. And… I don’t think she _wasn’t_ trying to help them, either. Sometimes…sometimes bad things just happen. And even the Goddess can’t stop them.” 

Edelgard let out a small sob, burying her face in her knees. Rhea gently reached out, placing a hand on the princess’ shoulder. It…had the opposite effect she had been hoping for, as the girl jerked back as if she had been burned. Rhea quickly took her hand away, meeting those wide eyes with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I should have known,” she murmured. 

She glanced down at her own hands, toying with one of the rings on her fingers. “You know what I believe, though? About the Goddess?” she confessed, her voice soft, innocent. She was no longer the Archbishop…just a woman as lost as the girl sitting across from her. When Edelgard nodded slowly, she continued, “I believe that…that she’s there. Wherever we go when our time on this earth is over. I believe she is waiting, waiting to pick us up from where we have fallen. Waiting to…to comfort us, to _welcome_ us. Before taking us to be reunited with all those we have lost. Your siblings, Edelgard…” Edeglard stared meekly up at her, eyes glassy and fearful. Rhea sighed. “Your siblings went to good hands.” 

A small smile slowly worked its way onto the Princess’ face. She sniffled again, and wiped away the tears with her sleeve. “Thank you…Rhea,” she said quietly, “That…that makes me feel a little better. Knowing that they're safe now.” 

“And you are, too,” Rhea stated, before she even knew she would say it. Her confidence caught her off guard, and she knew it was the kind of thing Seteth would scold her for. But she felt she owed it to the child to make this promise, even if it might be hard to keep. “I swear to you: no one shall hurt you here,” she assured, “Whatever nightmare you managed to escape from…know that you are free from it here at Garreg Mach.” 

Edelgard held her gaze with wide, questioning eyes. She then glanced down at her hands, tracing a faded scar on her palm. “I…I still don’t know _what_ I escaped,” she admitted, “You said they changed me. But…into _what_? And _why_ would they do this?” 

A light snore from the nearby chair caused Rhea to pause, and she looked over to see Hubert beginning to stir. Light olive eyes opened, still clouded from sleep, but they brightened when they saw Edelgard awake and well. “My Lady!” he exclaimed, shooting out of the chair and hurrying to her bedside, “You’re awake!” It was only then that he noticed Rhea, and the brightness in his eyes disappeared as they narrowed in suspicion. “And…Archbishop Rhea,” he greeted, significantly cooler than before, “Thank you for watching over her while I was unable to.” 

Rhea nodded slowly in acknowledgment. “Now… Edelgard, what I am about to share with you is knowledge very few are privy to,” she said as she eyed Hubert. 

Without hesitation, Edelgard snatched Hubert’s hand in hers. “I trust Hubert with my life,” she stated firmly, “What I know, _he_ knows.” 

Hubert met Rhea’s gaze with a similar boldness. “If Lady Edelgard demands it, I will take a secret to my grave. You have my word,” he said, “But also know that I will not leave her side for anything or anyone.” 

Rhea glanced between the two of them, both so stubborn and determined, and let out a small sigh. “My Child: such a promise is less a threat to me than you think,” she assured him, “You say you will never leave her side with such conviction, and from what I have seen I believe it. So I will tentatively give you my trust.” Her face hardened, and she met him with a glare so intense even he began to squirm under it. “However, if you betray my trust know that the hellfire that awaits you beyond this world will be the _last_ thing you should worry about compared to what I will do to you,” she growled. 

Hubert paled, but nodded. Edelgard also nodded, as while the threat might not have been directed at her, she knew it still applied. 

Rhea then drew a deep breath, and said quietly, “Edelgard: you are my descendant.” 

Edelgard’s eyes widened, her jaw even dropping open a little. “Wh… _what_?” she stammered, “But… How could… You’re not… You’ve _never_ …” 

“Perhaps Archbishop Rhea has never had a child, and has seemingly only been around for about twenty years or so,” Rhea explained gently, “But… _I’ve_ been alive for a very long time. And I’ve had _one_ child, with a man by the name of Wilhelm von Hresvelg.” 

“The… _first Emperor_?” Hubert demanded skeptically. 

Rhea nodded. “I am not the representative of Saint Seiros,” she revealed hesitantly, “I _am_ Saint Seiros. And before you ask: the reason I am still here despite Seiros supposedly dying centuries ago is because I am not human. I am what you might know as a Child of the Goddess. We called ourselves Nabateans.” She looked to Edelgard - taking in the green in her hair, that one brilliant, pale green eye, the pointed ears. “You, my dear… Seem to be Nabatean now, too.” 

Hubert frowned in confusion, shaking his head slowly back and forth as he tried to process. “So _you_ are one of these so-called ‘Nabateans’, and Edelgard now is too because _you_ are somehow her ancestor?” he asked, “How does that work?” 

“I met Wilhelm before the war against Nemesis and…well, we fell in love,” Rhea told them simply, “The child I bore was Lycaon, who then proceeded to continue the Hresvelg line for generations. For…their protection, I chose to distance myself from them, and spread false information for who Lycaon’s mother was. No one should know that the Hresvelgs share Nabatean blood.” 

“But… _who_ were the Nabateans? Why haven’t I ever heard of them?” Edelgard wondered, “You said they were the Children of the Goddess, so does that means they were the Saints? And what does that make _me_?” 

Rhea sighed heavily. Every instinct she had told her not to divulge this information, but as she met Edelgard’s curious eyes, she knew the girl would find out one way or another. Besides, now that she was one of them, she deserved to know her history. 

“The Nabateans were created by the Goddess, centuries ago when she came to Fodlan,” Rhea told them, keeping her voice low to discourage any potential eavesdroppers, “We were once a grand civilization, growing in peace and prosperity, and sharing our wealth with the original inhabitants of the land. We are… _like_ the Goddess, sharing many of her traits and abilities. We are essentially immortal, growing old at an incredibly slow rate. And we will not die unless so gravely wounded our bodies do not have the time or energy to heal themselves. Your…sleeping for a few months after your ordeal is how we can heal after significant traumas.” 

Edelgard nodded, slow and solemn. “So will I…live forever? If you are Saint Seiros, then you must be… _centuries_ old.” She cast a nervous and saddened glance at Hubert. “Will I… _outlive_ everyone I’ve ever known?” 

Rhea gave her a small, empathetic smile. “It…might be the case.” She dealt the blow gently, but even then, Edelgard’s disheartened expression was enough to break her heart. “We still don’t know for sure, though,” she said hopefully, gently taking the girl’s chin in her hand and tilting her head to meet her eyes, “It’s possible you still share a few human traits. This one eye seems to symbolize that. For that, I’m afraid, we’ll have to wait and see.” 

Edelgard swallowed hard and gave another nod. “Rhea?” she asked, anxiously shifting on the bed, “What happened to the Nabateans?” 

Rhea winced. Explaining what had happened to a race of technologically advanced, essentially immortal, _Goddess-blessed_ people was never going to be an easy feat, but for her especially… She had been there to witness it. And even now, centuries later, the pain still lingered like a festering wound. 

And so, she did what she had _been_ doing for years and years, whenever someone began to dig up history: she _lied_. 

"They were…killed. Humanity lived alongside us and while the vast majority lived with us in harmony, there were a few who grew jealous and greedy of our wealth and power. So they attacked us when we weren’t prepared for it, killing many and forcing the survivors to retreat. Some Nabateans turned their backs on humanity completely, taking on their dragon forms and never changing back, while others decided to stay. 

“We hid for a while, but… We found humans willing to help us fight against those seeking to destroy us.” Rhea paused, swallowing hard and struggling to keep her voice level. “N…Nemesis and the Ten Elites aided those of us remaining - the _Saints_ \- to dispel the evil of this world. Your ancestor, Wilhelm von Hresvelg… He was a vital part of the war effort, too. It is due to his bravery and loyalty that he was rewarded with the title of Emperor.” 

Edelgard frowned, looking away with distant eyes. “So what will happen to me now?” she asked quietly, “I assume I’ll have to…maintain some kind of secret? Will I be allowed out, or do I have to stay hidden?” She asked that last part with an extra quake to her voice, and one look at the shackle scars around her wrists and Rhea knew _why_. 

“For now, my Child, you need only rest,” Rhea told her, “Garreg Mach is our sanctuary for a reason. It is _safe_ , here. As for the details, I will discuss it with my advisors, and we will think of something. Rest assured knowing that we will do the most to make you comfortable here.” 

Edelgard gulped nervously, but nodded. Hubert seemed to shift closer to her, though he never took his scrutinizing gaze off the Archbishop. With that, Rhea bid them both farewell, and left them to catch up with each other. 


	4. Chapter Three: The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhea and Seteth try to figure out what to do. Meanwhile, the school's head librarian returns from his sudden sabbatical.

“I don’t know what to _do_.” 

“I still can’t believe they were able to… _do_ what they did.”

Rhea grimaced. “The success rate certainly wasn’t very good,” she muttered darkly, before resuming her pacing around her office.

Seteth let out a heavy sigh. “You’re thinking of keeping her here, aren’t you?”

“Do you have a better plan?” she demanded as she spun on her heels to face him, “Because we _can’t_ send her back into their clutches!” 

“But she’s still the Crown Princess!” Seteth reminded her, “As far as we know, anyway. They could be devising a scheme to cut her from the line of succession as we speak.”

“All the more reason for her to _stay_!” 

“And _then_ what? She grows up here? Just another nun or knight or professor for the Academy?” 

Rhea narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you suggesting, Seteth?” she asked in a low voice.

“Well…” He floundered slightly under her cool gaze, struggling to find the right words. “The Church _was_ at its strongest when it was allied with the Empire…” he began, “If she _were_ to become the Emperor after growing close to us…” 

“It _would_ be beneficial…” Rhea murmured, thinking aloud to herself. But then she frowned, shaking her head clear of the ideas. “No. _No_ , I…I won’t send her back to Enbarr. No amount of future planning is worth risking her life like that.” 

“So what, then, are we to do if the corruption in the Empire spills over?” Seteth challenged, “You’ve buried your head in the sand for too long, Rhea! Edelgard is _proof_ dark and terrible things are happening in the shadows and we _cannot_ ignore it any longer.” 

“I _refuse_ to risk our lives any further, Seteth!” She took a menacing step toward him. 

He met her glare with a stubborn one of his own. “And _not_ doing anything is risking them, too!” 

With their faces inches apart, he could see how much she was trembling. Despite the outward strength she was trying to display, he knew better. He let out a deep breath, and stepped back. “I know you’re frightened,” he said softly, “But this is something we cannot ignore.”

“I…” Her intense gaze faltered, and she slowly looked away. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging herself tight because she would allow no one else to do so. “Our family is so small now, Seteth,” she uttered, “And now I know it’s even _smaller_.” 

Seteth swallowed hard. When Rhea told him what had happened to those Hrsevelg children… Needless to say, he went and hugged Flayn extra close that night. “I don’t know what else we can do,” he said, “She will need to be recognized as Crown Princess of the Empire, or else they will most certainly try to take her birthright. If she is to have any political pull…”

“Does _everything_ have to be political?” Rhea grumbled. 

“You’ve been in charge for _far_ too long to be asking something like that _now,_ ” he replied dryly. 

Rhea opened her mouth for a retort when a knock on the door interrupted her. When she called out, Catherine entered, giving them both a quick bow. “Archbishop Rhea: an Imperial messenger just brought this to us and demanded it be given to you immediately,” she informed them briskly, “He said it comes from the Emperor himself.”

Rhea and Seteth shared an skeptical glance. Rhea then nodded to Catherine, extending a hand to accept the scroll. She broke the seal and scanned its contents, eyes widening in shock the more she read. When she finally got to the end, and the Emperor’s own shaky signature, her skepticism was gone.

“Well?” Seteth pushed, “What does it say?”

Rhea said nothing, still trying to get her head wrapped around it. She handed Seteth the letter, and he read aloud:

> _Archbishop Rhea,_
> 
> _I am hopeful that, by now, my dear El has found her way to you. I am sure you are likely concerned and fearful of what has been going on within the Empire. I assure you, I am, too. Corruption here as seeped into every level, and creatures of shadow mingle so freely with my ministers at this point it is hard to tell who is who._
> 
> _When I saw what they did to my children, Archbishop, I can safely say it broke me. Those creatures of shadow promised that they would be returned to me, if I behaved, but their lies are what define them. I cherished my children more than anything in this world, and I have lost them due to my inaction and my fear._
> 
> _But I will not allow that to happen again._
> 
> _I know what they have done to El. I know about our family’s ancient history, how we bear the same blood as Saint Seiros herself in more than a mere blessing by a Crest. And that whatever they did, it brought characteristics of Saint Seiros out in her. I bore witness to her escape from the palace, and rest assured, it was not horror with which I watched her, but_ pride _. If anyone can change the fate of the Empire, I know for certain that it is her._
> 
> _It is for that reason that, as you are reading this, a proclamation is being sent out across the Empire. It states that a terrible plague has swept through the Imperial Palace, striking down the Imperial children and deeply affecting my own health. Only Edelgard survived, having been saved by the Goddess herself. As a result, she now bears resemblance to the Goddess and the Saints, having been chosen by the Divine to be Adrestia’s next Emperor. For her own health and safety, I have sent her to live in the Church’s care, where she will remain until she has come of age to take my place._
> 
> _I know it is not much, and it might not even work. But it is the best course of action I could see, and I refuse to sit back and watch_ them _write her out of history. Adrestia’s relationship with the Church of Seiros has been waning, however there are very few citizens here who wouldn’t see issue with the removal of an heir chosen by the Goddess herself. They might not be religious, but they_ are _superstitious. Now that the people know that Edelgard is the heir, and a divine one at that, there is little those monsters can do. I may not know much about them, but I_ do _know that they prefer things to change with as much secrecy as possible._
> 
> _I do not know what they will do to me. And I do not know what course of action they will take now. I do not think it necessary, but I will warn you regardless that these monsters lie everywhere. Do not trust_ anyone _. They killed my children and tortured El for a reason. It is highly likely they’ll want her back._
> 
> _And should you ever read this, my dear El: I am sorry. Words cannot express how guilty I feel, and if you never forgive me I understand. I can never forgive myself. Just know that, despite my failings and my weaknesses, I_ love _you. You are my little phoenix, and your flame will dispel all the shadows of this world._
> 
> _Take care, all of you._
> 
> _Emperor Ionius von Hresvelg IX_

There was a pregnant pause after Seteth finished reading, a heavy silence settling on the room.

“He _can’t_ be serious,” Catherine deadpanned. 

“They’re…they’re _going_ to come here!” Seteth exclaimed, “That _fool_ has sent them right to us!” 

“I thought you _wanted_ her to become the heir!” Rhea demanded. 

“Yes! But in _Enbarr_!” Seteth shouted back. 

Catherine threw her hands up in the air. “Look: just tell me who to expect, and I’ll take care of them! Thunderbrand and I will make quick work of them!”

“It’s not that simple, Catherine! A single Relic won’t hold up against them!” Rhea brought one hand up to her aching forehead and let out an exhausted groan.

“Is…everything alright?”

Rhea perked up and whipped around to face the door, spotting Edelgard looking in with a worried expression on her face. Hubert hovered over her shoulder, eyeing the group with his usual suspicion.

“I…I heard yelling,” Edelgard explained as she stepped into the room, “Is there something wrong?”

Seteth cast Rhea a look that silently demanded, “ _Well_?” and she heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s…fine, Edelgard. We were just discussing our next steps,” she said.

“Y…you’re not going to send me back to Enbarr just yet, are you?” Edelgard asked, anxiously shrinking in on herself as she spoke, “M…my Uncle will probably be waiting for me, and…”

“No, my Child,” Rhea assured her, dropping down to one knee and gently brushing a few strands of silver and green hair out of Edelgard’s face. She glanced down at the letter in her hands, biting her lip in hesitation. But then her compassion won over paranoia, and she handed the letter to the girl. “We actually just received this letter from your father. He has…taken actions that will allow you to stay here,” she said.

Edelgard’s gaze scanned the letter, a frown deepening on her face the more she read. Despite the obvious pain and sadness, no tears formed in her eyes, even as she got to the end. Eventually, after re-reading it, she looked up to Rhea. “But… I _wasn’t_ blessed by the Goddess,” she stated quietly, “If anything, she…” She swallowed hard, allowing her thoughts to go unfinished. 

“Yes, we know. But you will have to make it seem like you _were_ ,” Rhea told her.

“I know _that_ ,” Edelgard replied, shaking her head slightly as her frown worsened, “I guessed I would have to lie about _something_ , after everything that has happened. It’s just… People are going to see me and think that something similar could happen to them. That in their darkest moments, the Goddess can reach out and spare them, too. But…but she _won’t_.”

Rhea sighed, taking the girl’s chin in one hand and carefully tilting her head up. “Sometimes, what’s more important about a message isn’t if it’s _true_ , but the _hope_ it can give to people,” she said, “A little white lie here or there might be worth it, if it means people can strive to look forward to the dawn following the night.”

Edelgard still seemed unsure, so Rhea dropped the sugarcoating. “This will also be for your own protection. The Goddess herself might not be able to offer much protection, but her _legend_ and reputation will. No one will dare try to harm you if they fear the Goddess’ wrath.”

“And the people who don’t believe in the Goddess?” Hubert asked skeptically. He didn’t even flinch when the anger flashed dangerously in Rhea’s eyes.

“Those people come few and far between,” Rhea stated dangerously, “And should they try anything the Church will _crush them_.”

“ _Rhea_ ,” Seteth hissed, snapping her out of her building rage.

Rhea shook her head, clearing her mind of such thoughts. “Unfortunately, the wheels have already been set in motion,” she sighed, “Like it or not, we will have to follow the Emperor’s lead. Edelgard, you will be housed here at Garreg Mach. When you are old enough, I will put you into school here, and following your term you will be of age to take your place as Emperor of Adrestia. I promise you that you will be safe here, and will learn a great deal about Fodlan and your own history. I, myself, will even have a few…special…lessons for you.”

“And what might those entail?” Hubert demanded, eyes narrowing as he scrutinized her every move and expression.

“Well, for starters, one lesson will pertain to how you both arrived here,” she told him, “Unless you’d rather leave such abilities to be completely uncontrolled and random.”

Both Hubert and Edelgard shook their heads furiously, neither wanting sudden and somewhat spectacular appearances of a _dragon_ when they least expect it.

“And what about my Uncle?” Edelgard asked anxiously, one hand carefully rubbing the obvious shackle scar on her wrist, “What if he tries anything?”

“If that man ever sets foot in this Monastery, I’ll destroy him myself,” Rhea stated with confidence.

— — — 

“Tomas! You’re back!”

The elderly man smiled warmly at the scholar, nodding in confirmation to his astonishment. The scholar opened the library door wide, and a few other mages and professors who were currently in the library all gasped in surprise and happiness.

“We thought you had disappeared!” the scholar said as Tomas hobbled his way inside, “You just vanished for more than a year without a single letter of correspondence!”

Tomas sent the man an apologetic nod. “I’m afraid the stress of this job got the better of me,” he sighed, “I might not be a man of much spontaneity, however my impromptu trip certainly did wonders for my health! I’m practically a new man!”

“Where did you go, Tomas?”

“Oh a little here, a little there. Enbarr is lovely this time of year! But, alas, I decided I had been away from these hallowed halls long enough.”

“Well, we’re glad to see you back safe and sound! We left your office untouched… Just holding onto the hope of your return,” the scholar informed him, “Thank the Goddess you’re alright.”

Tomas nodded again and headed off to his old office. “Yes, yes, the Goddess has been a wonderful guide for me this past year,” he said, “But now I look forward to once again guiding young minds myself.”

“Well, we’ll give you some time to rest,” the scholar said, “It is wonderful to see you again!”

“Yes, and it is wonderful to see you all, too,” Tomas replied with a smile. He bid his farewells, and closed the door to the office. Once alone in the dark, he let out a heavy breath, and the smile fell from his face. “ _Imbeciles_ ,” he growled under his breath.

The old office was filthy, covered in dust and cobwebs from the years of disuse. One large spider in particular felt bold enough to crawl across the desk in front of him, and he reached down and allowed it to crawl into his hand. He looked down at the large arachnid with general disinterest, before his eyes moved to glance out the dirty window at the monastery below.

“So _this_ is the dragon’s nest,” he muttered, “I expected more of a challenge.”

The spider scurried across his palm, and he allowed it to run around his hand in its fear and confusion for a moment. But then as crossed his palm again, dark magic erupted from his skin, purple flames that burned unnaturally hot and deadly. The spider never stood a chance.

In the light of the dark magic, his eyes were black, hollow voids, with only pinpricks of white as his pupils. Solon grinned, malicious and hungry for chaos and blood. “Run while you can, _Princess_ ,” he laughed, “But you _cannot hide_.”


	5. Chapter Four: Dragonology 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard adjusts to her new life at Garreg Mach, and Rhea decides it is time for them to have their first lesson.

There were changes she needed to get used to. Edelgard discovered quickly that it wasn’t just her appearance that had been altered, though even that took some adaptation. Her hair had always been relatively straight, smooth and silky that would tangle easily if she didn’t tie it up with ribbons. Now it seemed to have gotten thicker, and formed natural waves around her face and ears. Which, was good. As Rhea had been insistent she try to hide her ears as much as possible. All the others like her did, as well. She, at least, had a bit of an excuse if people saw them thanks to her father’s lie, but she didn’t care for the odd looks the students of the monastery gave her when they saw them.

But appearance aside, there were other things she realized about herself as time wore on.

The nightmares were, unfortunately, the first thing she noticed. No matter what she did, sleep would often bring her back to the dungeon underneath Enbarr's Palace. It was common for her to wake up halfway through the night, drenched in cold sweat, gasping for breath and shaking off the ghostly feeling of shackles that were no longer there. Just like the scars on her body, it seemed the memories had been permanently etched into her mind, always waiting for her to relive them the moment she tries to rest.

Fear also seemed to creep up at unexpected times when it never did before. It wasn’t a mild fright, either. It was a deep, _strangling_ kind of fear that, much like her nightmares, left her with frantic, desperate breathing and a racing heartbeat. And it all would trigger thanks to something so stupidly benign: a strange shadow on the wall of her room; the sight of a rat scampering across the hall; deep, dark water… Professors Manuela and Hanneman both assure her these kinds of things are normal after one experiences horrific trauma. But such assurance does little when there’s no easy way to _stop_ the reactions.

It was all so _frustrating_ , and only further served to remind her of how much she had changed.

Most physical changes, however, were better received. She was far stronger than she ever was before, for starters. She had already learned to be careful with her strength, as the Crest of Seiros, though minor, gave her more power in her muscles than her small size let on. Now, however, her new Crest seemed to triple it. Quills would snap easily in her hand, she often would open doors with far too much force, silverware would bend if she held on too tightly, and one time during training she discovered she could swing an axe through a thick log with one swing, though the axe didn’t survive.

Her senses seemed to have been heightened, too. She found her vision better once it got dark, which was a relief as she had grown paranoid of things lurking in the shadows of night. She could also hear better, and could even _feel_ her longer, pointed ears turning and reacting to sounds and emotions. Only slightly, and she couldn't really control it. Flayn told her the reactions just…happen and there was no stopping them. 

She also loved fish. She had always been indifferent before, but now she _loved_ any dish with seafood in it. She also found herself just sitting by the pond at the monastery, watching the various types of fish swim around the dock underneath her. For some reason that could keep her entertained for _hours_ , and she’d often have to explain herself to a very confused Hubert. 

Speaking of Hubert, she also found herself growing some kind of strange attachment to him. Nothing… _romantic_ or anything. Possessive, would be the best way to describe it. Anytime someone tried to give him a hard time, she’d be in between them in a heartbeat. She always wanted him close, where she could see him and keep an eye on him. _Protect_ him. 

When asked about it, Rhea told her that while it was a myth that dragons hoarded piles of gold and jewels, they _did_ often grow extremely protective of that which they treasure most. 

_Family_ was more often than not the treasure a dragon would die for.

Regardless, Hubert found her clinginess odd, and in direct contrast to how he viewed her. _He_ was the one who was supposed to do anything for _her_ , not the other way around. 

There was one change, however, that hadn’t been addressed since she first settled into life at the Monastery. She had assumed it was supposed to be swept quietly under the rug, never to be spoken of again, but she _did_ wonder about those lessons Rhea had mentioned before…

That is until one morning, at an hour she would have previously found ungodly had she not been woken up earlier by a nightmare, she was interrupted from her book by knocking on her door. When she opened it, she was face to face with Cyril, a boy Rhea had apparently taken in and raised as best she could. Well, that was the story she was told, anyway. Cyril came off about as clingy to Rhea as Hubert did to her, willing to do anything possible to please her.

“Lady Rhea wishes to see you in the main courtyard,” he said before she could even greet him, something in his gaze making her anxious, “It’s best not to keep her waiting.”

With that, he spun on his heel and stalked off.

Edelgard frowned, but figured he was probably right and headed off to meet with the Head Dragon herself.

— — — 

“It is time we had our first lesson,” Rhea said as they walked. Edelgard followed along after her, trying her best to keep up with the taller woman’s fast pace. Rhea had led her out of the courtyard and through a few smaller passageways, down some steps, and then down an even smaller alley. She seemed to make a sharp turn every so often into another inconspicuous little laneway, as if to throw off any potential followers. Eventually, they made it to a simple wooden door in the main wall, hidden partially by a bush.

“Where are we going?” Edelgard asked as Rhea pushed the door open, revealing a steep staircase down into the valley below the monastery.

“Somewhere _private_ ,” Rhea told her, “Our lessons are to be _secret_ , as this is something _no one_ can know we can do.”

“Is this about how I can turn into a dragon?” Edelgard asked with a tired sigh, “Because I’m fairly certain half of Fodlan knows I can do that by now.”

A small grin flashed across Rhea’s face. “You’d be surprised at how easy it is to convince people that what they saw was a mere illusion,” she said suspiciously, “And, should that fail, how easy it is for _fear_ to keep them quiet.” 

“Ok, so… People assume the giant dragon that crash-landed here a few months ago was an _illusion_?” Edelgard challenged with a raised eyebrow. 

Rhea chuckled, ignoring the skepticism with a blissful smile. “Oh _Child_ , come now,” she said with a laugh, “That most certainly was _not_ a ‘giant’ dragon.” 

With that, she headed down the stairs, leaving Edelgard sputtering in offence. “What do you mean by that?” she demanded as she hurried to catch up. 

“Don’t take it personally, my dear,” Rhea told her softly, “But your dragon form is considerably smaller than what is normal. But, I suppose that might be a given. You are also human, and you are also relatively short.” 

Edelgard snorted in derision. “I’ll have you know that my height is perfectly normal for someone my age,” she stated confidently. 

“Yes, I suppose you _are_ taller than Flayn, which is good. Though I wouldn’t hold your breath - given who her parents were in about a hundred years or so she’ll likely be taller than you.”

“Y…you don’t _know_ that! _You_ were my ancestor, after all! I could still keep growing!” 

“Yes, but _Wilhelm_ was also your ancestor. And he was… Well, let’s just say he made up for his stature with his grand and charismatic personality.” Rhea glanced behind her to see Edelgard’s dejected expression, and she sent her a sympathetic smile. “Do not concern yourself too much,” she said, “When it comes to our other forms, size often is not something that matters too much. You clearly have strength, and stamina. Did you really fly here all the way from Enbarr in one night?”

Edelgard rubbed one arm sheepishly. “I…suppose I did,” she admitted, “Although, to be honest, I don’t remember much of the flight here.” 

Rhea’s eyes narrowed slightly at the admission. “Then that is where our first lesson will begin,” she said vaguely.

Before Edelgard could question her further, they rounded a bend on the cliff, revealing a quiet glen nestled in the walls of a gorge. The long, swaying bows of large willow trees danced in the slight breeze next to a sparkling stream. Wildflowers were scattered throughout bright green grass, leaving little pops of colour. It was a relatively small patch of life in the otherwise dreary, rocky mountains, but still more than enough space for the two of them. 

“What even is this place?” Edelgard breathed as she stepped onto the grass, taking note of the abundance of white lilies planted along the cliff walls. 

“It’s…a private getaway,” Rhea told her, taking a deep breath of fresh air as she did, “A safe place where I can find some respite after long days. Being the Archbishop is a full time job, and it is rare I can have some time to myself without being disturbed.” 

Edelgard glanced back up the steps they had just descended from, grimacing slightly at the thought of having to climb back up. “Well, it certainly isn’t easy to find,” she commented. 

“Yes. And I would like it to _stay_ that way,” Rhea stated, shooting her a pointed look. 

Edelgard nodded in understanding. “So what was the lesson for today, then?” she asked, feeling excitement beginning to build inside. She hadn’t felt such anticipation for anything since long before her life changed forever.

“We won’t do anything too strenuous today,” Rhea said as she headed over to a small bench located under one of the willows, “Mostly a lecture of sorts.” She noticed the slight disappointment in Edelgard’s expression, and couldn’t help but chuckle. “And _perhaps_ … I’ll find time to teach you how to properly transform.” 

Edelgard smiled and headed over to sit beside the Archbishop on the bench, eager to learn about this new side of herself. Rhea couldn’t help but notice how her heart fluttered at the sight; something long-thought dead seemed to stir inside, melting a bit of the ice she had allowed to grow there. 

“So," she began, “I first want you to describe what it was like when you first transformed. Think about what you were feeling, what you were thinking, both before and after.” 

Edelgard thought for a moment, mulling over the memories in her mind. “Well… I was angry. And scared. _Very_ scared,” she said after some time, “Hubert and I were trying to flee the palace, and my Uncle caught us. He tried to take me, threatening to…to chain me up again. Hubert was fighting back against his father, and he almost broke free but then…he got hurt. Enough to knock him out for a moment. And… I…I don’t know. Everything gets hazy after that.”

“Think a little harder. You must have been furious to see your friend hurt, correct?” Rhea pushed gently. 

Edelgard nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more furious…” she murmured. 

Rhea shot her a grim smile. “So then you transformed. What happened next?” 

“I…” Edelgard thought, pushing her mind as far as it would go, but everything after seeing Hubert go down was a blur. She remembered…shock, upon seeing what had happened to her hands. She remembered…pain, from being hit by dark magic. She remembered…panic, as she grabbed Hubert and ran, not looking back. 

Rhea nodded sagely and explained, “Your dragon form is something that separates Nabateans from the rest of the world. When you transform, you become a creature unique to _you_ , and you alone. What your form looks like depends entirely on who you are, and who you will become. It is why we give them names separate from our own, such as 'The Immovable' or ‘The Wind Caller’ or… ‘The Immaculate One’.” 

Edelgard looked very serious, glancing down at her hands in deep thought. “So…what will _my_ name be?” she wondered. 

Rhea chuckled. “Do not worry about that, just yet, my Child,” she assured, “We do not select our names right away. Just as our fates often aren’t obvious for some time.”

“Alright,” Edelgard agreed, “That makes sense, I suppose…”

Rhea then continued: “It is important to remember that our dragon forms are _extensions_ of ourselves, but they can also be their own entity. The dragon in your blood will often aggravate intense emotions and thoughts. It is easy to lose ourselves to it, especially in moments of high stress.” She frowned a little, her intense green eyes boring into Edelgard’s. “We are at the greatest risk of losing ourselves while in that form. _It_ knows how to be a dragon. _You_ do not. And while your dragon and yourself might share many ideas, opinions, and thoughts… You won’t always. And people can get hurt if you are not careful.”

“How do I prevent that?” Edelgard asked worriedly, remembering how it felt like her mind took a back seat while her body operated on its own. 

“For now, I recommend meditation and prayer,” Rhea said. Taking note of Edelgard’s slight grimace, she added, “Oftentimes prayer can be used to ground ourselves. By asking the Goddess for aide and protection, we also must reflect on _why_ we ask. What pain do we feel? Where do we need the most strength? To ask for help, you must first realize where you _need_ help." 

Edelgard frowned, mind traveling back to a dark and dreary cell where she used to pray every waking minute of the day. _Begging_ the Goddess for help that never came. “But what then?” she wondered, “What good does self reflection do if we never see the help we ask for?” 

Rhea sighed, noticing the shadow cast over the girl’s eyes. “If we can understand ourselves, then we can take control,” she said simply. She then smiled, and rose from the bench. “Perhaps this is a better lesson to learn practically.” 

Edelgard perked up at that. “Y…you mean…” 

Rhea nodded, and headed out into the open glen. Edelgard followed a few paces behind, suddenly nervous. When they were far enough out in the open, Rhea stopped and turned to her student. “I want you to close your eyes and empty your mind,” she instructed, “Focus on the sun on your skin, the breeze in your hair, the smell of the grass, the sound of the stream. Then draw that same focus inward, to yourself.” 

Edelgard squeezed her eyes shut and did as she was told. 

“Loosen up a bit, Dear,” Rhea said with a soft laugh, “You need not be so tense. Take long, slow deep breaths.” 

The Princess shifted on her feet, shaking out the tension in her muscles. She unclenched her fists at her side, and gradually allowed herself to relax as all her fears and worries disappeared into the glen.

“As you look inward, seek the fire in your heart that make you and the dragon one and the same,” Rhea continued, “Your spirit, your courage, your desire to protect those who are important to you. Take that fire and hold it close, and _never_ let it go. So long as you control that fire, you control the dragon.”

“Ok…” Edelgard murmured, focusing as much as she could on “looking inward”. When nothing seemed to be happening, she backtracked a little, going back to listening to the stream in the glen. She stood like that for a moment... 

And then a warmth began to spread in her chest, as if something was awakening from a deep slumber within her very soul. She could feel the intense power beginning to rise, filling her blood with fire. She could sense another’s presence, one who was not Rhea. One who seemed to _know_ her, one _she_ seemed to know. Thoughts and feelings and experiences were shared between them and eventually she lost track of who was who. 

Rhea’s voice came through the haze distant and quiet: “Seek the flame, my Child. And once you have it, then you can allow the dragon to come out.”

In the darkness behind her eyelids, a faint, pulsing light began to appear. She reached for it, and the tiny flame seemed to migrate to her hands. Like a timid, injured creature seeking protection. But as she held it, it grew. The stranger who knew her approached, and the power of the flame surged. She kept it in her hands, struggling against the surge. She saw the image of her strange, new Crest dancing in those flames. 

And for the first time, she was not afraid of it.

“Alright, my Dear,” Rhea called, “You may open your eyes.” 

Edelgard slowly opened her eyes, blinking in the bright sun. She tilted her head in confusion: Rhea _had_ just been standing right in front of her… And since when could she see _over_ some of the trees? 

“I must admit: perhaps you _aren’t_ as small as I initially remembered.” 

Realization dawned on Edelgard’s face, and she quickly glanced down to find dark-scaled talons in the place of her hands. Now that she was not in any danger this time, she took the chance to better examine this new form of hers. Golden armoured plates ran from the start of her elongated neck down her front and underneath, protecting her chest and abdomen. Her forearms and hind legs were also armoured, much like a bird’s feet. But the rest of her was covered in feathers, deep crimson in hue. Long, ornamental feathers adorned her shoulders where her wings met her body, these being deep black with gold stripes. Her wings were composed of similar flight-feathers. She stretched the new appendages out, just to test, and they were simply _striking_ against the bright sky. The gold and black feathers on the end of her tail also seemed to move with her wings, and she surmised they must help in flight. 

But as thorough as her examination was, it could only go so far. She eyed the stream nearby, and carefully made her way over to it, attempting to adjust to how walking on all fours felt. 

For some reason, a small part of her had believed this was all a dream until she saw her face. That seeing and _feeling_ the rest of her body now as a _dragon_ meant nothing if she couldn’t see her face. She almost half-expected her face to remain the same, but the creature staring back at her was the furthest thing from human. 

She still had one purple eye and one green, and they were the only part of her that she could still recognize as _Edelgard_. 

Despite how much of her body looked like a bird, her face was more classic dragon. At least, how she recognized them from drawings and tapestries. Her pointed ears had grown longer, and _fluffier_ , and twitched and moved to every noise around her. Two grand, golden horns curled out from her skull and wrapped forward around her head, almost like a crown. A _deadly_ crown. 

Actually, she was beginning to realize just how much of her _was_ deadly, now. Her size was one thing, but her claws were sinking into the soft soil with no effort on her part. She bared her teeth only to find row after row of white, pointy _weapons_ lining her jaw, completed by two long fangs where her canines used to be. All down her back were thick spines connected by blade-like bone that almost resembled an axe head. There was a small one on the end of her tail, partially hidden by flight feathers, that could end up being especially dangerous. 

She understood, in that moment, why people feared and worshiped dragons. And it unsettled her. 

“I never did get a good chance to look at you when you first arrived at Garreg Mach.” Rhea was beside her now. Edelgard had been so absorbed in her examination she had failed to sense the Archbishop’s presence. The tall woman seemed so… _small_ standing next to her, now. 

“ _I never got much of a chance, either_ ,” Edelgard confessed, her own distorted voice sending a shiver down her back. She felt her feathers actually fluff up a little. 

“How does it feel?” Rhea asked calmly, reaching out without fear and smoothing some of the ruffled feathers. 

“ _Strange_ ,” Edelgard replied, “ _Does it ever…_ not _feel strange?_ ”

Rhea chuckled warmly. “You will adjust to it in time, my Dear,” she assured her, “Now that you’ve been able to transform willingly, our next few lessons will be about learning control. For now, I just want you to get a feel for this.” 

Edelgard flicked her tail, still a little surprised it did as she wanted. She glanced back at her wings and attempted to fold them neatly along her back as an eagle might. She succeeded somewhat. 

Rhea’s soft laughter broke her concentration. “Not everything’s going to be natural at first,” the Archbishop said, “Wings caused me trouble when I was first learning, too.”

“ _I feel as though it is only fair that I see_ your _dragon form_ ,” Edelgard said, “ _After all, I still don’t believe you when you said I was small when I am currently towering over you._ ”

Rhea’s smile grew into a playful smirk. “Very well, Child,” she relented, moving away to the open clearing, “I suppose it _is_ only fair you met the Immaculate One.” 

There was a blinding flash of green light, so bright Edelgard had to shield her eyes. But as the light died down, she looked up…and had to keep looking up. She felt her ears drop in submission, despite her effort to stop them. 

The Immaculate One _loomed_ over her, even as a dragon. Now she _really_ understood why people feared dragons. She also made a mental note to _never_ anger Rhea while she was in this form. 

A low chuckle rumbled out of the Immaculate One’s throat. “ _Do not fear, my Child_ ,” she said, her voice even more distorted than Edelgard’s, “ _I promise no harm shall ever come to you_.”

“ _I…I can’t help it,_ ” Edelgard confessed sheepishly, “ _You’re just so_ … _Intimidating._ ” 

A wide, fang-filled smile broke across the Immaculate One’s face. “ _Good. A dragon should be_ ,” she mused.

Green fire sparked to life and wrapped around the Immaculate One’s body, and just as quickly as she had transformed into a dragon, Rhea had turned back. Edelgard cocked her head to one side, her fascination obvious even in her draconic features. But then her ears dropped in dismay, and she began shyly, “ _Erm…_ How _do I_ …”

Rhea smiled knowingly. “The flame is yours to hold, my dear. Pick the form you’d like to take, and the flame will make it happen,” she said cryptically. 

As exciting as being a dragon was, she’d like her old body back. She closed her eyes again, searching for the magic inside that allowed this to happen in the first place. She felt the flames of her Crest begin to fade, and the strange, second presence disappeared back into the recesses of her mind.

Upon opening her eyes, she discovered she was her old self once again. 

“I’m impressed,” Rhea said with pride, “It can sometimes take a while for people to learn that lesson. More often than not they spend a week or two with a tail.” 

Edelgard’s eyes widened and she quickly glanced behind her, much to Rhea’s amusement. “So it’s just like that?” she asked after confirming, to her relief, that there was no tail behind her, “Just…hold the proverbial flame and think about being a dragon?” 

“Well, when you break it down like _that_ it sounds easy,” Rhea sighed. She moved back to the bench and patted the space next to her. When Edelgard complied, she continued, “That flame is more important than you think. It might not be a _real_ flame, but it acts like one. It can be snuffed out, or burn out of control, if the right circumstances happen.” 

Edelgard frowned. “What…what happens if it goes out?” she asked nervously. 

“Going out is the best option,” Rhea stated grimly, “If your fire goes out, you will no longer be able to access your dragon form. Forever. Your fire can be snuffed out by a great many things. Heartbreak. Severe injury. Loss of hope. Even spending too long ignoring it, never accessing it or your dragon form, can eventually cause it to burn out. Why do you think I have this little space for myself? Here I can meditate, and spend some time taking care of my own flame.” 

The Princess nodded, her expression astute. “And… If it…burns out of control?” she asked carefully. 

A shadow fell over Rhea’s face, and she stared off at a cluster of white lilies nearby. “If your fire consumes you, then the dragon will take over,” she said, her voice low and serious, “You will lose yourself to the beast within, and you might do things from which there will be no coming back. Everyone is more at risk of this than losing your flame, because a great many things can aggravate it. Anger. Passion. Pain… If you don’t go numb, then you will _burn_.” 

Edelgard gulped nervously, her hands beginning to wring together. Sensing her unease, Rhea allowed her expression to brighten once more. “Fear not, my Child,” she assured, “You are with people who will help you learn all about this side of yourself. It’s true there is risk but it is minimal, so long as you trust us.” 

Edelgard thought for a moment, before a small smile worked its way onto her face. “You’ve already helped me so much,” she said, “Of course I trust you!”

Rhea gently reached out and tilted Edelgard’s chin up with a slender finger. With pride and happiness in her eyes, she said warmly, “Good girl.” 

— — — 

“So… How did it go?” 

Hubert was waiting for her when she finally got back to the monastery. She plopped down under the tree he was standing next to, allowing her tired legs to rest after the _long_ climb back up the cliffs. 

“It was good,” she answered as she let out a weary sigh, “Very…informative, despite the exertion.” 

“I hope you aren’t pushing yourself too much, Lady Edelgard,” Hubert sighed, “While I will concede you’ve grown stronger, I still worry you haven’t recovered completely from the circumstances that…have led us here in the first place.”

“Hubert,” she said with a roll of her eyes, “I’m _fine_.” 

“Your strength and stamina _are_ unrivalled, yet I still can’t help but—” 

She grabbed his hand and tugged him down to the the grass with her. He lay there awkwardly beside her, stiff as a board as she settled down. “You worry about me, and I can’t begin to tell you how much it means to me,” she said softly, “But we’re not at the Palace anymore. Things are… _different_ here. I’ve already got Rhea and Seteth fretting over me. I don’t need _you_ to do it, too.”

“Lady Edelgard, I am still your retainer,” Hubert replied, “It is my _job_ to worry about you, and to provide anything you might need or desire.”

“Anything, huh?” Edelgard asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“…Within my realm of ability, yes.” 

“Then what if I want a _friend_?” 

“… _That_ might be difficult to acquire.”

“You can’t just worry about me because you’re my friend? It has to be because of some silly job?”

“Y…you don’t understand,” he stammered, rolling over and pushing himself up to sit against the tree, “My whole life’s purpose is to be there for you. To _serve_ you. To _protect_ you. And when you needed me the most I…I _failed_.”

“Hubert…” 

“When we were younger, I acted too much like a friend to you. I was _soft_ , and _weak_.” 

“You can’t _possibly_ think that us being friends was the reason they took me away.” 

“I… That’s not… Father told me I was pathetic,” Hubert admitted quietly, looking down at his hands in shame, “He said because I spent more time playing silly games instead of learning magic, I wasn’t strong enough to protect you. He said because I cared, I was too emotional, and that caused me to become unfocused. I _tried_ to go after you, but there was always someone stronger standing in the way.” 

Edelgard pushed herself up, and reached out a hand to take one of his. “I don’t _want_ some devoted follower who doesn’t care about his own feelings,” she told him gently, “I want _Hubert_ , the boy who used to put up with my adventures in the palace gardens no matter _how_ much trouble we got into.” 

Hubert let out a dry laugh. “Neither of us are the children we were from that time,” he sighed. 

“No, but… Things aren’t as bad as they seem,” Edelgard offered, “I mean, sure, _terrible_ things happened, but we’re safe now. And everyone from the Church has been very kind so far.” 

“Hmm,” Hubert grumbled with a frown. 

“You still don’t trust them, do you?”

“I can’t say I do. Everything just seems so… _saccharine_. I get the sense that Lady Rhea especially is hiding something.”

“She…likely is. That I won’t deny. But after today I feel like I’ve learned a little more about her.” 

He levelled her a stern glance. “And what _have_ you learned about her?” 

“Well, she…” Edelgard frowned as her mind drew a blank. What did she know about Rhea? She knew she was a dragon. She knew she had been in love, once, with her very ancestor. She knew…only what Rhea had told her so far… “She’s _kind_ ,” she eventually offered, wincing at how pathetic the attempt was. 

“She’s also the Archbishop,” Hubert reminded her, the tone of his voice gravely calling forth all that _came_ with the title. 

Edelgard sighed heavily. “I _know_ ,” she said, “But she’s more than just her title. And I just…” She let out another huff in frustration, her hands curling up into tight fists. “I wish things weren’t based on the roles we’re forced to play. I wish I wasn’t a princess, destined to be the Emperor. I wish _you_ weren’t just reduced to ‘retainer’. I wish Rhea wasn’t known solely as the Archbishop. A title one has shouldn’t be how we’re forced to see and care for each other.”

Hubert’s gaze softened slightly. “But that’s how the world operates, unfortunately,” he said quietly, “All anyone cares about is what’s in your blood and what that makes you.” 

Edelgard pushed her sleeve up a little, revealing a surgical scar running down her forearm. She carefully ran a finger along it, feeling the raised skin and shuddering at the memory of how she got it. “I don’t,” she whispered, eyes never leaving the mark marring her skin forever, “I just… I don’t want anyone to think that _that_ is what makes them important to me or anyone else."

Hubert sighed heavily, watching the daily on-goings of the Knights and students of Garreg Mach. All that routine, all that tradition - all of it based on an ancient societal system. “Perhaps one day things will change,” he suggested, daring for her sake to sound hopeful. 

Edelgard smiled slightly. “Perhaps…” she agreed softly.

— — — 

Rhea walked slowly down the hall leading to her chamber. It had been a long, _long_ day. Her lesson with Edelgard had easily been the highlight - the moment she returned to the monastery Seteth had found her and dragged her off for an onslaught of paperwork and meetings and paperwork _about_ the meetings. She found herself longing for more time _away_ from all of that, be it in her little private glen or up in the big blue sky flying far, _far_ away from this stuffy monastery. 

She stifled a yawn, failing almost immediately. No matter: no one was around to see her do something un-archbishop-like. She rounded a corner, and immediately noticed something odd. 

Light spilled out from under the door of Edelgard’s room. Goddess, it must have been well past midnight - what in Fodlan was that girl doing up? 

She reached the door and paused. She didn’t wish to intrude, but at the same time found herself worrying for the girl’s health. Everyone needs sleep, especially Nabateans. She drew a deep breath, and gently rapped on the worn wooden door.

A sudden, raspy gasp greeted her, followed by a quick, “ _Who’s there_?” 

“It’s me, Child,” Rhea called out softly, “Is everything alright? You are up awfully late.”

A long, awkward moment of silence was her response, at first. Then, a single, pitiful word: “ _No_.”

Not waiting another moment, Rhea pushed the door open. Edelgard was curled up against her headboard, arms wrapped tight around her legs and back firmly pressed against the wood. Her eyes seemed to dart between the darkened corners of her room, where the light of the bedside lamp couldn’t reach. Rhea also couldn’t help but notice the tears on her cheeks. 

“Edelgard,” she cooed, moving immediately to sit on the bed next to the girl, “What’s wrong, Child?”

“I…” Edelgard stammered, her eyes still glassy as they looked off into the darkness, “I can’t sleep.” 

Rhea frowned. Manuela had told her about this, but she hadn’t been sure of what to do about it. The Healer had unfortunately no answers for her, either. This sort of thing just… _happened_ to people who went through something horrific. Even Rhea herself could testify to that, though her nightmares had dwindled as the years went on. Time seemed to be the only way to heal this sort of thing, but that came as cold comfort for the one currently dealing with such raw, disturbing fear. 

“Breathe, Edelgard,” Rhea said softly, noting the irregular and panicked movement of the girl’s chest, “Like we practiced earlier. Just focus on what’s around you right now, not what’s in your head.” 

Slowly, but surely, Edelgard’s breathing levelled out somewhat. But as she managed to free herself from Fear’s clutches, the wounds left from its claws began to sting. More tears formed in her eyes, and she buried her face in her knees in an attempt to quiet her sobs. 

“Shhh, my Dear,” Rhea sighed, ever so carefully reaching out and scooping the girl up, “You’re safe here. There is nothing to fear.”

Edelgard clung to her the moment she felt the warmth of Rhea’s chest, hanging on with a desperation that made her forget just _who_ she was hugging. Although if Rhea were being honest, she had forgotten herself, as well. Seeing Edelgard like this dredged up feelings she thought she had long ago buried. It hurt. It hurt _so much_.

And yet… 

A quiet, content sigh came from the girl in her arms. As Edelgard snuggled closer, the tension in her body began to relax. And it wasn’t long before her sobs subsided, and her breathing slowed to calm, even strokes as she drifted off to sleep. 

“You must have been tired,” Rhea whispered, brushing some hair out of Edelgard’s face and spotting dark bags under her eyes, “Sleep, my Child. I’ll keep you safe.”

She quietly hummed the tune of a lullaby that her mother once sang to her, until she drifted off to sleep as well. 


	6. Chapter Five: How To Train Your Dragon Self

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edelgard adjusts to her new abilities and new life at Garreg Mach.

Sometimes, while chained up in the dungeons below the Imperial Palace, Edelgard would dream of being a bird. Of taking to the wide, blue sky on unbroken wings, feeling the wind on her face and the sun on her skin. Being _free_. Free to fly far from the darkness and the monsters that dwelled within it. 

She _never_ thought, despite how much she dreamed it, that it was something that could come true. 

“ _You are improving_ ,” the Immaculate One praised as she dropped down to fly along side her. 

Edelgard grinned in pride. “ _This is…harder than it looks_ ,” she commented as she adjusted her wings slightly, and immediately feeling the shift in her flight trajectory. 

“ _It is difficult to grasp at first_ ,” Rhea reminded her, “ _We don’t normally_ have _wings in our human forms, after all._ ” 

Edelgard glanced down to the sea far, _far_ below. “ _The…height_ _will take some getting used to_ ,” she said nervously. 

They were on a vacation, of sorts. Though there wasn’t very much relaxing to be had. The little found family had come to the Rhodos Coast for various purposes. Seteth and Flayn had personal reasons to visit, and Rhea wanted to get some flying lessons in. There were vast stretches along the Coast that were virtually deserted, making it far easier for two of the last dragons in the world to fly without being spotted. 

Edelgard had never really liked the sea, _especially_ following the experiments. Even now, gazing down at the dark blue water far below unsettled something in her mind. One wrong move and she’d crash into those inky depths, never to see the light of day again. 

“ _Focus, Edelgard_ ,” Rhea chided as she noticed her student beginning to stare at the water for a little too long, “ _You will fly where you look, so if you don’t want to go for a swim, do not look down_.” 

“ _R…right_ ,” Edelgard replied, shaking her head to clear away the imposing thoughts. 

“ _See if you can follow me,_ ” Rhea instructed, “ _Remember to use the wind to your advantage, and be aware of any environmental changes._ ” 

Edelgard nodded, watching as Rhea broke off and dove down toward the sea below. Edelgard followed her lead, trying to take note of how every little movement in her wings and tail could affect her flight. Rhea pulled up before the water, skimming above the waves. Edelgard managed to do the same, though she misjudged how long it would take to effectively pull up and her feet ended up splashing through some waves. 

She _had_ flown from Enbarr to Garreg Mach the first time she ever transformed. However the entire flight had been a blur. The dragon had more or less taken over, guiding her body through the motions rather than her being aware of any of it. Learning now was key so that she _wouldn’t_ lose control like that again. And while Rhea did tell her certain things would just come naturally so long as she didn’t overthink, it _was_ still a skill she needed to adjust to. Seteth had compared it to learning how to fly with a wyvern or a pegasus. 

Following the Immaculate One through the skies was a good way to learn. Rhea’s dragon form was large and powerful, making for one intimidating beast. However, that same size came at a hindrance: she was _slow_. Maneuvering didn’t come as easily. It was a good way to start out, but now that she was getting the hang of it, Edelgard found herself having trouble not outpacing her mentor. 

Rhea then wove through some of the rock formations along the coast, a task that was easy enough for Edelgard - though she _did_ clip her wing off a couple stacks when she flew too close. 

“ _Watch your language, dear_ ,” Rhea laughed as she heard her student reacting to the pain, “ _We’re going to try something a little more advanced. Follow my lead, and be careful not to stall_.” She then aimed upward, flying high at a steep incline. 

Edelgard followed. She could feel her wings beginning to strain as they shot higher and higher. Much like an eagle, her wings were better built for soaring and gliding. Flying straight up from sea level felt like climbing all the steps in the Goddess Tower…twice. 

As her stamina began to weaken, she was beginning to lose control of her form, and started to pitch steeper and steeper. Eventually, it hit a point where, despite flapping her wings, she had stopped moving forward. Or _up_. 

So _this_ was what Rhea meant by “stall”. 

With a panicked cry, Edelgard fell backward and upside-down, unable to right herself. She could see Rhea spin around and begin to dive after her, but by this point she had fallen too far to hear any advice Rhea might be shouting. 

Through the haze of terror, Edelgard felt something reach out to her. A friendly being, offering advice in a calm, soothing tone. 

_Focus_. She needed to _focus_. Shove aside the fear and panic, ignore the fact that the ground was speeding up to meet her. Take one issue at a time, and _quickly_. 

She was upside down, her back careening toward the earth. _That_ needed to be fixed first. 

Using her wings, she managed to catch the air in just the right way to help her body spin around. So now she was falling belly first. A good start. But now she needed to spread her wings out again to slow her descent. 

That was easier said than done. The amount of wind resistance was staggering, which she supposed was a good thing once she could get her wings _open_. But she was falling at such a speed it took tremendous effort to get her wings fully extended. 

But she did it. 

Ok, now her wings were out, and her rate of descent was slowing. But not slow enough, and she was now angled toward the forest of rock stacks she and Rhea had flown through earlier. At a _much_ slower speed. 

_Don’t overthink_ , was her advice, _Feel the air around you and just_ fly. 

Under normal circumstances, such vague and obvious advice would have warranted an eye roll from her. Now, however, it was far better than no advice at all. So she shifted forward, felt the air currents as she hurdled toward the rocks, and _flew_. 

Ducking, weaving, spinning, and turning. Nothing quite compared to the thrill, the sheer _exhilaration,_ as she danced through the rock stacks. Every muscle, every _feather_ on her body felt in tune with the world around her, as she navigated the forest of stone. Rocks flew past her at staggering speeds. She only had _fractions_ of seconds to determine where her next move should be. But she felt the air, where it flowed between the rocks, and she followed the path out of the maze. 

She exploded out of the rocks like a bat out of hell, soaring out over open ocean before doubling back toward the shore. Adrenaline was pumping so fiercely through her body she was starting to feel light headed, so by the time she was over the ground she practically crashed into the soft, long grass. In the process, she lost her hold on her dragon form, and in a swirl of green flame and red petals, she became herself again. Lying in the grass on her back, breath coming in quick, ragged spurts, heart pounding a mile a minute. 

Rhea landed next to her a little harder than she wanted to, shaking the ground with her might. “ _Edelgard_!” she cried as she loomed over her still as the Immaculate One, “ _Are you alright_?” 

“That…” Something bubbled up from her chest. Her entire body was shaking, a cold sweat washed over her. But deep within was not fear or anxiety - but pure, unadulterated _joy_. “That was _amazing_!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms above her head in triumph, and laughing like she never had before. 

Rhea reared back a little from the declaration, shock evident on the dragon’s face. But then she sighed in deep relief, and in a storm of green fire and white petals, became human once again. The Archbishop then decided to forgo all decorum, and flopped down on the grass next to her exuberant young charge. 

She chuckled warmly, gazing up at the blue sky as Edelgard continued to celebrate beside her. From the distant past came the faint hint of a memory: a memory in which she was in Edelgard’s place. And so she spoke the soft, but proud, words that had been once said to her: “Well done, my Child.” 

— — — 

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like to be a fish?” 

Edelgard sat on the dock, gazing down at the carp swimming underneath in the monastery pond. Flayn sat next to her, idly tossing bread crumbs into the water, which the fish happily devoured. 

“I can’t say I have,” Edelgard replied to Flayn’s query, “But then, I can’t swim, so I’d make a pretty poor fish.” 

“But you’d have gills, so you wouldn’t have to worry,” Flayn pointed out, laughing as one particularly determined koi practically climbed out of the water over all the others to snag a piece of bread out of Flayn’s hand. 

Edelgard nodded, not one to argue with that logic. 

“And how is your training going?” Flayn asked. 

“Good,” Edelgard replied, “Rhea’s been a wonderful teacher. I’ve…I’ve learned a lot about both myself and my heritage.” 

“I must admit, I’m a bit jealous,” Flayn sighed, “How I wish I could do the same - learning about myself, reaching deep within and finding my own flame. I…I worry it has gone out before I could even discover it.” 

Edelgard shot her a look of concern. “Well… Why don’t you?” she asked softly. 

“Father would never allow it.” Flayn’s eyes were downcast at the mention of her father. She only ever spoke of him that way when she and Edelgard were alone. To everyone else, Seteth was “Brother”. She probably should have kept the secret from Edelgard, too, but she _longed_ for the chance to acknowledge the man for who he truly was and Edelgard was a good listener. And a good secret keeper. 

“Have you ever tried? Just on your own?” Edelgard asked. 

Flayn shrugged. “I wouldn’t know where to begin,” she admitted in defeat. 

“Well… Close your eyes and take a deep breath,” Edelgard instructed. Flayn nodded, and did as instructed. “Try to empty your mind, and focus on the world around you,” Edelgard continued, “Block out everything else so that it’s just you and the universe.” 

“Even you?” Flayn said with a chuckle, opening one eye to peek at her teacher, “But you’re the one giving me directions!” 

“Yes, even me,” Edelgard laughed, “You won’t need any instructions once you focus. Your flame should become obvious once you block out distractions.” 

“All right,” Flayn sighed, trying once again. She focused on the sounds of the world around her. The ripple of water against the posts of the dock. The wind blowing past the monastery ramparts. The everyday sounds of people moving about in their lives. She looked further inward, feeling her heart beating in her chest, the steady rhythm of her breathing. And then, like a star in the sky, this _light_ appeared in the darkness behind her eyelids. It seemed small, but bright, guiding her toward… _something_. 

“Flayn? Edelgard? What are you both doing?” 

Flayn’s eyes snapped open with a jolt. She would have fallen into the pond had it not been for Edelgard’s quick reflexes. She glanced up to spot Seteth standing at the end of the dock. 

“N…nothing, Brother!” Flayn called nervously, “Just feeding the fish!” 

“The fish have plenty to eat in the pond,” Seteth chided, “Remember you two: it’s almost time for your lessons. You should go wash up before meeting your tutors.” 

He then left, and once he was out of earshot, both girls sighed in dismay. “ _Ugh_ , not Professor Ahlers,” Edelgard groaned, “I don’t know how one can make battle tactics boring but _he_ does.” 

“At least you get to learn about something important,” Flayn sighed wearily, “All Sister Faust wants me to do is read the Book of Seiros. _Again_.” 

“To think we live at Fodlan’s most prestigious school and seeming learn _nothing_ important,” Edelgard mused. 

“Perhaps one day we’ll actually learn something useful,” Flayn suggested, “Once we are true students of the Academy.” 

Edelgard chuckled. “Do you think Seteth will let you join with me?” she wondered. 

“I…don’t know. I do hope he will,” Flayn replied, “Perhaps if I start asking him now, by the time you _do_ join he will have been worn down enough that he will agree!” 

Edelgard laughed this time. Flayn’s optimism was always a good lift to her spirits. “Here’s hoping, Flayn.” 

— — — 

Catherine could barely believe the situation she was currently in. 

When the Adrestian Princess - of _all_ people - approached her about weapons training, the knight couldn’t contain her howling laughter. But she shut up quickly when it became clear that the girl hadn’t been joking. 

She had no idea what to make of Edelgard. This kid just…literally _crashes_ into their lives with a whole host of bizarre powers and a shady past Lady Rhea won’t entirely fill her in on. She’s a nice enough kid. She became fast friends with Flayn, which was good in Catherine’s mind. If you asked her, Flayn could use a friend who could drag her out of Seteth’s imposed comfort zone. And Lady Rhea seemed to like her - in fact, Lady Rhea had taken a _special_ interest in her. Often the two would disappear for hours on end, only to reappear around dinner time with a bond that was closer than ever. 

And _no_ , Catherine was _not_ jealous of this kid. Absolutely not. That’s _insane_. 

The thing about Edelgard that baffled Catherine the most, however, was her appearance. And not just the unusual eyes or hair - both of which a strange bi-coloured mix that seemed to suggest the Princess came from two separate worlds and and got caught in-between. 

She was _small:_ thin, delicate, and _short_. 

And yet she marched up to Thunder Catherine with all the confidence of the most hardened soldier, all five feet of scrawny limbs and nonexistent muscle, and asked if she could help her practice sparring. 

“You serious?” Catherine deadpanned, raising an eyebrow skeptically as she looked her tiny challenger up and down, “Kid I know you can turn into a dragon but I still highly doubt that this is a smart idea.” 

Edelgard frowned. “In a few years I’ll be joining the Officer’s Academy here,” she said, holding herself and projecting her voice as if she already were the Emperor, “And then soon after that, I’ll take the Crown of Adrestia. I want to be more than just a ruler who sits on a throne and forces others to fight battles for me.” 

“Uh huh,” Catherine said, leaning against her sword as if it were a particularly deadly cane, “Do you have any weapons experience at all, Princess?” 

“…I’ve used an axe before,” Edelgard replied after a moment’s thought, “I think I want to keep using that.” 

Of course this small child wanted to use _that_ kind of weapon. For a brief moment, the thought of her _swimming_ in fortress knight armour almost sent Catherine over laughing again. 

_Almost_. Except the smart part of her brain remembered that this _was_ Lady Rhea’s charge. And insulting the Princess could result in an angry Archbishop. 

“Ok, Kid,” she sighed, “I’ll see what you’ve got. I gotta warn you, though: learning an axe isn’t easy and learning it going up against _me_ is nearly impossible. You might want to brush up on the weapons triangle.” 

Edelgard smiled confidently. “Then that will mean my skills will be above and beyond anyone else if I learn against you,” she stated. 

Catherine blinked. “Oooh I see what you did there,” she said slyly, “Smooth, Kid. There might be hope for you yet.” 

Moments later found them facing each other in the training arena, wooden weapons in hand. Edelgard made the first move, surging forward with her axe reared back. Catherine saw it coming from a mile away, and dodged easily. As Edelgard recovered from the missed swing, Catherine spun sharply and swung her sword toward the girl. 

Edelgard skirted away, the tip of the wooden blade just grazing her arm. She moved with similar quickness to strike with her axe again, this time managing to hit Catherine’s side. 

The Knight let out a pained huff from the hit. ‘ _Damn, she’s stronger than she looks_ ,’ she thought as she recovered a little slower than she anticipated, ‘ _Not stronger than me, though_.’ 

With another lightning-fast slash, her sword came down on the girl. This time Edelgard intercepted it with the handle of her axe. They traded blows, back and forth, neither one actually landing a hit. The sound of wood on wood echoed off the walls of the training ground. Eventually Catherine struck and kept the sword against the axe handle, pushing with all her might as Edelgard held her back. 

It was like pushing against the wall. That’s how little Edelgard budged despite Catherine throwing her whole weight into the tactic. Though she was clearly straining, and her feet were beginning to slide in the dirt, the Princess certainly put any skepticism about her ability and strength to rest. 

Inevitably, though, something gave. The weapons were only wood, after all, and the handle of the axe had enough. With a loud snap, it broke in two under Catherine’s sword. Not wasting any time, Catherine used the fact that her opponent was reeling and weaponless and swung again. _Hard_. 

Far harder than she intended to swing. 

Edelgard was sent flying across the courtyard, landing roughly in the dirt a good several feet away from Catherine. There she laid motionless, her broken weapon scattered in the dust.

Catherine dropped her sword in an instant. “Oh _shit_ ,” she hissed. She darted forward, dropping and skidding on her knees to the Princess’ side. “Edelgard! You ok, Kid?” 

Lady Rhea’s going to kill her. That’s it. Her career as a Knight of Serios was over before it even really began. 

Edelgard groaned and rolled over onto her back. Catherine couldn’t hide her grimace. She had struck her in the head - an unfortunate accident caused by their height difference. She had the makings of some pretty serious bruising on her cheek, and her top lip was bleeding. 

Slowly, she pushed herself up and sat there in the dirt for a moment, blinking a few times as she regained her orientation. She gently rubbed a hand on her sore cheek, then paused to examine the blood on her hand from her lip. She looked up at Catherine, who was too scared to even _touch_ the girl out of fear she’d shatter like a broken porcelain doll. 

Catherine braced for the fear, the accusation, the hurt. She waited guiltily for the Princess to give up on training with her and go seek out a better instructor. 

Edelgard calmly wiped the blood off her lip. “Can we go again?” she asked with a determined grin. 

Despite her shock, Catherine laughed. This kid… The _Princess of Adrestia_ of all people. Catherine still didn’t quite know what to make of Edelgard but she knew one thing: she _liked_ this kid. 

— — — 

There was no shortage of religious art at Garreg Mach Monastery. Grand, towering statues of saints; gaudy overly symbolic paintings of the Goddess; ornate and informative stained glass depicting scenes from the Book of Seiros - anywhere one turned, there was art. 

It had always seemed strange to Rhea. There were all depictions of people she knew. Many were even of herself. But none of it seemed _real_. They were all hyper-fantasized for the point of showing off the glory of the Church. Sometimes she would have to give herself reminders to stop attempting to compare her life to the version of her in the paintings. Despite being the Archbishop of the most powerful organization in Fodlan, she lived a rather boring life compared to Saint Seiros. 

It was in front of a particularly detailed painting of Saint Seiros that she found her young charge. Edelgard was dwarfed by the massive canvas. She seemed to be admiring the brushwork and scale, however, seemingly lost in her reverie. 

Rhea moved to stand beside her, grimacing slightly up at the painting. _Saint Seiros at the Battle of Tailtean_. Despite the blood and carnage surrounding her painted form, she herself was as pristine as a white lily. Not a single drop of blood or speck of dirt stained her robes, as an aura of pure light surrounded her and blinded her enemies. She held her sword out in triumph, leading her forces onward into battle. Many lay dead or wounded from both sides - either monstrous heretics or virtuous martyrs of the Church. Both share the same fate, she thought grimly. But that wasn’t the true point of the painting. The idea was that one side would meet the Goddess, and the other… She wasn’t sure where they would end up. 

Having actually _fought_ at Tailtean, she had a differing opinion to the artist for what she and the battle actually looked like. 

But this painting wasn’t commissioned for realism. It was commissioned as propaganda. 

Edelgard didn’t react to her presence at first, but after a short pause, asked, “What was it like? Fighting in battle like that?” 

“Certainly not glorious,” Rhea replied, “It was…messy. And a terrifying experience. I hope you will never have to know it, my Dear.” 

Edelgard frowned. “But what if there is something to fight for? A just and worthy cause that needs to be protected?” she wondered, the innocence in her eyes nearly ripping Rhea’s heart in two. 

“Not like _that_ ,” she breathed, nodding up to the painting, “A battle like that should _always_ be a last resort.” 

“Was it a last resort for you?” 

If Edelgard had been armed with a weapon, striking Rhea in the chest would have hurt less than that question. “It…It was complicated,” she sighed. She reached out and rested a hand on Edelgard’s shoulder. “Tailtean needed to happen for the sake of the world. If Nemesis had been allowed to continue… But I will admit that I was personally motivated in that battle. I had…lost…a great deal because of that _man_ and on that battlefield I was going to kill him. Nothing stood in my way, but at the same time… I lost myself to my anger. Don’t…don’t ever let that happen to you, my Dear.” 

The Adrestian Princess was quiet for a moment, staring solemnly up at the painting as she processed the Archbishop’s words. Rhea shuffled on her feet a little. There was a question in her mind, one that had been slowly growing more pressing as time wore on. 

“Edelgard?” she began, her eyes never leaving her portrait with a face filled with vengeful, righteous fury. Edelgard turned to look up at her expectantly, and Rhea drew a shaky breath. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard about your Mother,” she began hesitantly, “I know your Father well enough, but… I was wondering if you’ve ever… What I _mean_ is, you don’t seem to _miss_ her - or your Father, for that matter…” 

Edelgard’s face fell as she glanced away. “ _Oh_ ,” she muttered. 

“Forgive me if such a question is intrusive. It’s just…in the past, when children have been brought to the Monastery under similar circumstances, they often have difficulty adjusting without their parents,” Rhea explained, _panicking_ under a facade of warm collectedness. 

Edelgard merely shrugged. “I don’t _really_ miss them,” she replied simply, “I don’t really remember my mother. Father perhaps a little, but I understand the circumstances that led me here and away from him. And, frankly, after what happened to me I’d rather never set foot in that palace again if I could.” 

Rhea grimaced slightly at the thought, but now she had another nagging question. “Are you… _happy_ here?” she asked shyly. 

Her charge nodded with a small smile. “It’s nice here,” Edelgard replied, “It’s not what I was used to, but most of the changes are good. I enjoy our lessons, and I…” She trailed off, a shadow dropping over her expression as she looked at the ground. “I feel like you and Seteth actually _care_ about my safety,” she murmured. 

“Your father _didn’t_?” Rhea demanded, anger beginning to bubble up at the thought of what that man allowed to happen to his child. 

“No, he _did_ ,” Edelgard insisted quickly, “But he never… He _couldn’t_ … He didn’t _do_ anything about it. _You_ , on the other hand, I know would _fight_ for me.” 

“And what makes you so certain of that?” Rhea asked. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her stomach twisted into knots. This child put _far_ too much faith in her, she realized. Not the _Archbishop_ , but _Rhea_ \- the _person_. And Rhea the Person should _never_ be trusted with such responsibility when failure was a near constant in her life. She could never love anyone _enough_ , and whenever it felt like she _did_ … Something _terrible_ would always happen. She was in far too deep. She never should have let her guard down around this girl. 

Edelgard pointed up to the painting. “ _She_ would never have let them take me,” she stated simply. 

Rhea followed the child’s direction, looking up to the portrait of her from over a thousand years ago. To Seiros, the warrior who looked evil and injustice in the eye and raised her blade against it; who sought to end the cruelty and greed of the Agarthans and drive the evil back into the shadowy depths where they belonged. 

Rhea, a woman who has spent over a millennia grieving the loss of her family, who’s heart still felt shattered beyond hope and her will to fight only still alive thanks to the simmering cauldron of _rage_ bubbling underneath her serene exterior… Rhea wasn’t the hero Seiros was. Seiros was, and always will be, far stronger than Rhea ever could be. 

“ _She_ never would have, no,” Rhea choked out, her throat suddenly very dry, “I can say with certainty that Seiros would have never allowed any harm to fall upon you.” 

‘ _But_ Rhea _did,_ ’ a mean little voice hissed in her head, ‘Rhea _was too cowardly and ignorant to see the turmoil the Hresvelg house was in until it was far too late_.’ 

She was broken free from the chains of guilt when a pair of arms were thrown around her, and Edelgard was hugging her tight. “Rhea will, too,” she said confidently. There was a soft comfort in her words, though, despite their assuredness. It was almost like Edelgard could tell what was troubling the Archbishop. 

Rhea wrapped her arms around the girl and held on just as tight. “Rhea will, too,” she vowed, her voice barely a whisper. But she was so sure of her words she had might as well have roared it to the heavens. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your patience! I swear this story will see a more regular posting schedule soon. I've ended up writing future chapters before current ones (because I get easily distracted) so once we hit that point things should pick up a little more. 
> 
> This has been a fun little project for me. I haven't written a fanfic this long in years (not since my early days in the Frozen fandom, tbh). My job is stressful and time-consuming so I, unfortunately, don't have a whole lot of time to work on this consistently. But I still have a lot of motivation for it, so if you're all willing to bear with me, more will be on the way!


	7. Chapter Six: The Past and the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few years pass, and Edelgard grows more comfortable in her new life at the monastery. But some wounds take longer to heal than others.

Punch with the right.

Dodge left.

Fast motion and strained grunts filled the empty training yard as the vicious duel took place. The Archbishop was unmatched in brawling, and for this battle, just like every other, she planned to _win_. She had taken on trained soldiers, vicious monsters, warriors twice her size.

She had not, however, fought many who were significantly smaller than her.

Her opponent was _fast_ , making up for lack of training with agility and quick thinking. And when she did land a hit, her true strength was revealed.

It had been _years_ since Rhea had met such a formidable opponent. 

Even longer since she had one she was proud of.

She thrust her fist forward, hoping to land a solid blow to the sternum. Her opponent shifted to the side, the tips of flowing, silver and green hair grazing Rhea’s knuckles as the only contact her punch made.

A small body suddenly appeared under her, taking advantage of the opening that missed punch left. An elbow to the ribs, another to the gut. Reposition. Something grabbed her wrist.

And suddenly she was flipped upside down, slamming into the dirt with enough force to knock the air out of her lungs.

She blinked, staring up at the blue sky for a moment, before tilting her head to gaze up at her opponent.

Fiery, bi-coloured eyes met hers. She couldn’t help but chuckle at that big, goofy grin.

“Well done, my Dear,” she praised, “You are getting stronger by the day. And you are making good use of your size.”

Edelgard’s smile grew wider. “I have you to thank,” she said as she approached to stand directly over the Archbishop, “You taught me everything I know about brawling.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Rhea replied, a mischievous grin growing on her face, “However, I’ve yet to teach you everything _I_ know.”

With one strong sweep of her arm, she had managed to take out the Princess’ legs. As Edelgard toppled to the ground with an unceremonious “ _oof_ ” Rhea was already moving, taking the girl by the collar and pinning her down underneath her. Despite her strength, it was a hold Edelgard could not escape from.

“Do you yield?”

Edelgard huffed. “I yield,” she grumbled.

A small laugh bubbled up from Rhea’s chest. She released her charge and flopped back down onto the dirt beside the girl. “Don’t hold yourself to such a high standard, my dear,” she chastised playfully, “You held up against me far better than most of my upper-year students. And some of them are nearly twice your size.”

“I thought I had you that time,” Edelgard groaned, staring up at the fluffy clouds high above, “I was so close!”

“I meant what I said,” Rhea promised her, “You truly are making incredible improvements every day. I pity your future enemies.”

Edelgard laughed. “You say that as if they wouldn’t be _yours_ , too,” she commented.

Rhea shrugged. “You have a point, my Dear. Still, I pity them. They wouldn’t last one battle at this rate.”

Edelgard laughed again, nodding in agreement, and the moment faded into a comfortable silence. It was just the two of them, now. No tutors trying to pester anyone about what fork to eat seafood with, or what the appropriate diplomatic greeting in Dagda would be. No Seteth constantly fretting about what Church duties need to be done and when. No ceremonial robes or armour or headdresses to wear.

They could just...be.

Edelgard and Rhea. Hair messily tied up, sweaty, and covered in dust.

They both let out a peaceful, happy sigh at the same time.

Edelgard was sixteen. And with each day, she was becoming more and more the princess Adrestia deserved. Rhea felt nothing but pride in her chest whenever she caught the young heiress improving her combat skills, or whenever her teachers would praise her intellect and perseverance, or whenever she happened to glance out a window to see the girl happily headed out on some adventure with one of the friends she had made at the monastery. Training with Catherine, fishing with Flayn, tending the horses with Alois, dragging Hubert through the gardens… She truly had made a home here.

She was her little Phoenix, born from the ashes of a horrific, nightmarish event and growing stronger every day.

Rhea turned her head slightly, observing Edelgard with a fond smile on her face. The princess was basking in the sun, watching the white clouds high above with a happy little grin of her own. Seeing her so relaxed now, practically flourishing in the bright day like a crimson flower, warmed the Archbishop’s once-broken heart.

Edelgard turned her head, catching Rhea in the act of staring. But rather than saying anything, she rolled over onto her stomach, then pushing herself up to sit cross-legged in the sand. “Rhea...” she began, hesitant. She was making that little frown of hers whenever she thought too hard about something.

“Yes, my Child?” Rhea pushed gently, her own smile fading with concern as she watched the troubled expression on the girl’s face.

“I was…wondering,” Edelgard began slowly, dragging a finger around through the sand, drawing abstract squiggles and avoiding eye contact, “I have been for a while now… But…” She finally looked up, meeting Rhea’s gaze with a nervous, yet curious stare. “What was your mother like?”

Rhea felt her heart skip a beat, and her eyes widened before she could halt the reaction. “The Goddess?” she wondered, unable to hide the surprise in her tone, “Have you not been told about Her before?”

“No, not the _Goddess_ ,” Edelgard replied, “I know about Her but… I want to know about your _Mother_. What was she like when she wasn’t being a Goddess? When it was just the two of you? Surely she must have acted differently when there was no one else to witness it?”

“I… Yes, she did,” Rhea admitted, a little more reluctantly than she would have wanted. She frowned in confusion. “Why do you ask, my Child?”

Edelgard looked down, releasing a dejected sigh as she tugged on her tunic sleeve. “I don’t remember my own mother,” she confessed, sadness and guilt heavily weighing down each word, “I _should_ … Hubert says she and I were close until I was about five years old… And then she had to leave…” Her grip tightened around her wrist, and she absentmindedly rubbed the faded shackle scar that would mark her skin for the rest of her life. “I…I don’t really remember anything from before,” she revealed shakily, “And I… I just wish I could.”

“Edelgard,” Rhea said softly, sitting up across from her and reached, gently stopping the nervous wringing by taking the girl’s hand in hers. 

“I thought maybe it might spark something if I heard about yours. But only if you want to share.” Edelgard met Rhea’s eyes with a look the Archbishop was powerless against glassy bi-coloured eyes and quiet pleading written on her face.

“Alright, then,” Rhea relented. She lowered her gaze as she allowed the memories to come flooding back. She purposely tried to push them down, keep them locked away where they couldn’t hurt her. But she could never hide them quite enough and she always bore a lingering pain from mourning a time long lost.

“Mother was… the most incredible person in the world,” Rhea said, “And not because she was the Goddess. She was thoughtful, and kind. It did not matter what troubled you - she somehow always found the time to help however you needed it.” She smiled, then, and a small laugh escaped her lips. “She wasn’t as serene behind closed doors. All those paintings and tapestries of her show her as the Goddess, but once it was just us, she was another person. Friendly, funny. Oh the games we used to play, the banter we would have…” 

She sighed wistfully, reaching up and tugging one of the few lilies she had kept woven in her hair out of the green plait. “She used to braid lilies into my hair, and then I would do the same for her. If I had nightmares, she would make the most wonderful cup of camomile tea to help me get back to sleep. And she used to sing such beautiful lullabies, holding me gently in her arms.” She felt a stray tear in the corner of her eye, and she quickly brushed it away. “Such times were incredibly special to me. Though she had many children, she always made sure we all could have personal time with her. I’ll admit, being one of the younger ones I was a tad clingy. All my older siblings said so. Mother told them not to tease me.”

Edelgard chuckled at the thought of Rhea, tiny and timid, never leaving Sothis’ side, clutching onto long silk robes like a lifeline. “She sounds…” she said, the brief amusement fading as her mind searched for memories that no longer existed, “She sounds…like an incredible mother.”

Rhea frowned as she watched Edelgard’s face fall. “Is this sparking any memories of your own?” she asked, hesitant. 

Edelgard shook her head. “No,” she replied, her voice heavy with emotion. She cleared her throat, and blinked away the excess moisture in her eyes. “I’m…I’m sorry, Rhea, I…” she stammered, “Thank you for sharing such things with me.”

“ _Edelgard_ ,” Rhea began, crawling over the sand so she could be seated beside her young ward. She reached an arm around narrow shoulders and pulled the girl in close. “I know it’s hard,” she continued softly, “Losing the people you care about is never an easy thing. Such pain can linger for so long, even after the wound is seemingly healed.”

“I just wish I had something to look back on,” Edelgard confessed quietly, “Something positive. Memories that weren’t part of horrific nightmares. Even if I could remember what she looked like…”

“Such loss can leave us feeling empty,” Rhea told her, “That’s why it is important to not let such a hole remain empty. Finding new people to bring into our lives can help us start anew. We might never get who we lost back, but, with some effort, we might find something that is just as good.”

Edelgard hummed in thought for a moment, pressing herself comfortably into Rhea’s embrace. “I don’t think I could ever replace my family,” she said after a pause, but then she turned to glare upward, and she smiled when she met the Archbishop’s gaze, “But maybe a new family will help. I’ve got you, and Seteth and Flayn… And Hubert, of course.”

“I doubt Hubert would want to consider himself a part of my family,” Rhea said with a laugh, “I still don’t believe that boy trusts me.”

“Oh, Hubert’s like that with _everyone_ ,” Edelgard said with a casual wave of her hand, “Oh, and I can’t forget Alois, Catherine, and Shamir…”

“That is quite the family, my Child,” Rhea said, “A rather…eclectic collection of people, but then… I suppose that’s exactly what a family is.”

Edelgard nodded with a wide smile. They drifted off into a comfortable silence for another moment, taking one last chance to enjoy their time together before duty called them back. “Rhea?” Edelgard asked, her voice uncharacteristically small, “I have a request for you.”

Rhea glanced down to her in concern. “What is it, my Child?”

“I…I was wondering if you could perhaps… Just call me ‘El’?” Edelgard requested, looking up with a hopeful wince, “It’s what my Father and closest sisters all used to call me and… It would mean a lot to me to have someone call me that again.”

Rhea smiled. Genuinely - not the serene, innocuous smile of the Archbishop but a pure, beaming smile from the woman underneath the title. “Of course I can,” she breathed, “ _El_.”

— — — 

_She was in the gazebo at Garreg Mach, only… It wasn’t. The scenery kept shifting. The time of day kept changing. Day became dawn which then became midnight. The flowers bloomed and withered within the span of a single breath. Carnations and lilies bloomed from the same vine - a vine that seemed to snake around the framework of the structure as if it were a creature slowly engulfing the ironwork._

_“Drink up, Dear.”_

_Edelgard blinked, and suddenly there was a teacup in front of her. It smelled like bergamot…or maybe camomile… It kept emptying and filling with different teas each time she glanced at it._

_She pulled her eyes away from the strange cup and up to the person who spoke. Much like everything else, this person never stayed the same. Obscured by shadow, or the creeping vines, or the hood of their cloak - she could never see their face in full. And their voice was too distorted, like it came from a memory but the memory had long since gone away._

_But their presence felt familiar._

_“You don’t want your tea to get cold, do you?” the stranger chuckled. It was warm, their laughter. She felt comfort in it._

_Slowly, she reached for the cup. She glanced over the rim, taking in her guest’s ever-changing appearance. “I’m…terribly sorry. I seem to have forgotten your name,” she said._

_The stranger cocked their head. “You don’t remember? Oh El…” they sighed, clearly disappointed, “I thought I meant something to you.”_

_“Y…you do!” she stammered, “It’s just…”_

_“It’s no matter. The tea wasn’t important, anyway.”_

_Just like that, the tea and the gazebo were gone. Now they stood…in a field? Edelgard rubbed her eyes as she took in her surroundings. The light and the sky seemed to be every time of day at once - high above it was the darkest night, in the middle fiery oranges and brilliant pinks of sunrise and sunset, while the purest blue of daytime stretched along the horizon. Wheat brushed against her uncovered, scarred hands. She spun around, trying to take in her surroundings, and realized they stood on a hill overlooking Enbarr far in the distance._

_“What’s going on?” she asked, turning to the stranger in the hopes of finding an answer, “What are were doing here?”_

_The stranger didn’t acknowledge her, instead merely looked to the sky. “The Stars will Fall,” they said ominously, “Great destruction comes from above.”_

_Edelgard’s gaze narrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?” she demanded._

_“When Darkness creates Light, it creates chaos.” The stranger turned, and Edelgard took a panicked step back when her eyes met two, glowing irises of pure white light. “Chaos will break the world,” the stranger said, “And to fix what is broken, one must put the pieces back together.”_

_“You’re not making sense!” Edelgard stated, “Is something going to happen? Is this some sort of warning? Who_ are _you?”_

_“Beware the Falling Stars. One will save you. But the rest will bring about your end.”_

_A star appeared in the dark sky overhead, shining bright over the city. Its size and brightness increased, growing larger and brighter until it became overwhelming. But then she realized that it wasn’t a star at all - it was a column of pure light, and it was hurtling toward Enabrr at impossible speeds._

_When it struck, the resulting explosion was blinding, and Enbarr disintegrated from her vision._

With a sudden gasp, Edelgard shot up from her slumber. The flash of light from her dream had been so intense it still lingered with her, as if she had been staring at the sun for an hour. She groaned as she rubbed her eyes, thankful for once that her room was dark and peaceful in the dead of night.

“What even _was_ that?” she murmured to herself, blinking harshly a few times in an effort to make the spots go away.

It hadn’t been a normal nightmare, one of darkness and death and decay. There were no chains, no rats, no dying screams from her family. She hadn’t been strapped down to a cold metal table, helpless under knives of unforgiving, faceless monsters.

Still, she shuddered.

She thought first of the stranger. Who were they? And why give her such a cryptic, depressing message? There was something about them that felt so familiar, but not from any recent relationship. Perhaps they were someone she had forgotten...

The trauma from the experiments had left her memory a broken, largely empty mess. This person could very well be someone she once knew and loved, but no longer remembered their face or voice.

That thought alone forced a frustrated groan to rise from her throat, hands tightly grasping at her head and pulling messy hair. She had tried drawing them, the people history said she knew. But her mother’s face was completely wiped from her mind, and she could only remember her siblings’ faces in death, not life.

She was sure her brother, Frederick, had a face, but all she could picture was the skeletal visage of a decaying corpse.

And then there were others: others she thinks she met, but can’t recall even their names. Just actions, and even those memories were spotty at best. There was a boy, for instance, she met while in the kingdom. She couldn’t remember his clothes, his hair, his eyes... But he gave her a dagger. It was the same dagger she had managed to keep with her during her flight from Enbarr. She was sure of it because there was a lion carved onto the hilt.

Had it been _him_ , in the dream? No... The voice sounded feminine.

Perhaps it was the Goddess, then? Blessing her with a prophetic vision so that she might change the course of history. She sighed heavily, flopping back against her pillow in disgust. She hated the idea of destiny and prophecies. If she were going to change the world, it will be because she _chose_ to, not because some indifferent outside force told her to. After all she had been through, she had decided that she will fight to fix things. But if someone were to tell her that all those terrible things happened to her so that she could fulfill some grand destiny... Well, said person had better hope she’s not holding an axe.

Perhaps it was just a strange dream? Yes, that was likely the case. Still, she might look into the “Falling Star” theme the dream kept emphasizing. But that could wait until morning.

She rolled to her side and closed her eyes. _One_ Falling Star would save her...

As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered when she would encounter such a Star.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter one. It took me a long time to decide where to end this chapter. Things are going to start to pick up in the next few, but I wanted to fit in one more little bonding moment before kicking off the plot.


	8. Interlude: How I Met Your Ancestor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilhelm Hresvelg came from a little farm in the far south of Fodlan. All he had to his name was the barn and some chickens. Like any future Chosen Royalty, he dreamed of adventure but had very little experience with it. But destiny waits for no one, as Wilhelm discovers when a surly stranger decides to spend the night in his barn.

Wilhelm lived in the south of Fodlan, on a little plot of land with good soil and an old, modest farm. The Hresvelg Farm had never been a major enterprise, mostly just used by his family for generations to sustain themselves. They had a few chickens, a cow, and mostly relied on wheat and vegetables grown in the summer months to last through the - thankfully mild - winters. The Hresvelgs were simple folk, working the land to survive. Their farm was far from the nearest town, as they lived further south than most others, opting for the better growing conditions over potential protection gained from living in central Fodlan.

Often in his youth, Wilhelm would go to the hill on the western edge of his family’s land, and look out to the sea far in the distance. The ocean looked like a flat, blue field from such a span, dropping off into infinity and worlds unknown.

The world was so big, and yet his world was so small.

But then things changed. There had been a blight the previous year, and a plague before that. It seemed something was poisoning the earth itself, or perhaps something that had been maintaining the earth had vanished. Regardless, each year became harder and harder to yield enough food to last the winter. Frost came earlier. Snow stayed longer. Rats got into the silo. The cow died, though she had stopped producing milk months ago.

Wilhelm ended up alone on his family’s farm, just him and the chickens. Less mouths to feed, he supposed. But he was restless. He never liked the farming life, and always dreamed of something different. The only thing keeping him there was the sense of tradition, like he owed it to his family to keep it going.

Little did he know that, one brisk spring morning when he was about nineteen, his world was about to change completely.

Wilhelm rose with the sun to set out on his chores as he always did. He threw on a thicker tunic to keep out the chill, filled a bucket of grain, and headed out to the barn to feed the chickens. However, once he stepped outside, he noticed something off when a chicken skittered past his feet.

The barn door was open.

Such a thing wasn’t a fluke, either. The barn door latched tight to keep chickens in and foxes out. Someone had pulled the latch open, and since it only opened from the _outside_ , all the chickens had managed to wander out. Wilhelm set the bucket down and reached for an old wood-chopping axe embedded in a nearby stump. He wasn’t sure if the perpetrator was still in the barn or not. For all he knew a robber had swept by during the night and made off with all the eggs. Or they could still be there, _waiting_.

A light snore came from inside the dark barn, confirming his fears. For all his desire for adventure, he had never… _done_ anything adventurous before. The best he’d done was travel to the nearest town for market. Facing off against potentially dangerous travellers was certainly not something he was familiar with.

He adjusted his grip on the axe, and drew a deep breath.

The door creaked as he pushed it open, and he peered into the barn, squinting in the low light. He couldn’t see any sign of anyone, but the snoring had stopped. He gulped and moved further into the barn.

Suddenly, he was on his back. He had _blinked_ , and then without warning a force like a runaway carriage struck him and tackled him to the ground. The axe bounced uselessly away from his grasp as he collapsed to the dirt. Whoever struck him got on top of him, holding him down with inhuman strength.

_Shing!_

Wilhelm felt the cold of a steel blade press against his neck, and he struggled not to gulp in fear. It was still too dark to see clearly, but as his vision focused his heart nearly leapt clean out of his chest when his eyes met a pair of brilliant green irises, _glowing_ in the dark.

“I…I think we got off on the wrong foot,” he stammered out despite the blade drawing a thin line of blood, “I…I don’t mean any harm, I promise. The axe was mostly for show. Couldn’t hurt anyone with it if I wanted to.” He chuckled nervously. Those eyes never blinked, and continued to glare at him. “Well, except maybe myself,” he continued anxiously, “Don’t know how many times I’ve nearly cut my finger off.”

Those eyes narrowed. “You talk too much,” the person they belonged to growled. It was a woman, a particularly dour one at that. However, despite her hostile disposition, she still removed her blade and let him go.

He got up shakily, carefully rubbing the cut on his neck. “I…I uh… Thanks,” he said, “For not killing me.”

“Speak nothing of it,” the woman replied.

“Erm… If you don’t mind my asking—” 

“I _do_.”

“Oh. Ok then.” He checked his throat again and thankfully it seemed the bleeding had already stopped. He awkwardly shuffled from side to side for a moment, before trying again with an awkward chuckle: “I just… What brings you to the 'Hresvelg Inn'?”

Deafening silence followed for a few agonizing moments. Then the woman moved, with the sound of her gathering up a few items breaking the tension, then she headed for the door.

“W…wait! I…I—” Wilhelm rushed after her, but stopped dead in his tracks when he finally saw her in the light.

_Ethereal_ would probably be the right word. She was about his age - much taller than him though - with long, light green hair tamed back in a loose braid. She had it tied off with an old, pink ribbon that she tugged to tighten as she ignored his gawking. She bore a severe expression on her face, hard and cold like stone. Her porcelain skin was tarnished slightly by the odd patch of dust, or scratch, likely from the length of her travels. She wore a long riding cloak - though had no steed in sight - over a lighter tunic with short sleeves. And suddenly Wilhelm had an answer for how she had been able to strike with such force just by looking at her muscle-toned arms.

“Paint a picture, it will last longer,” she sniped as she adjusted the strap on one of her gold arm guards.

“I…I apologize,” he stammered quickly, “I just have never…seen anyone like you before.”

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say. As if anything he had said up to that point had been correct. “‘ _Like me_ ’?” she hissed, hand reaching for her dagger as she whipped around to face him, “And what, pray tell, is _that_ supposed to mean? That I am different? That I am something _less_ than human?”

“ _No_! No not like that at all!” he cried, “I…I simply meant that you…” He bit his lip, shooting her his most apologetic smile. “You are… _beautiful_.”

Her eyes widened, despite her best efforts, and her hand moved away from the dagger. Then her expression hardened again. “Not _another_ one,” she groaned with a roll of her eyes.

“Another what?” Wilhelm asked.

“Another _man_ who cannot see with his eyes,” she stated coldly, gesturing to his lower body, “But rather, with something _else_.”

“What? _Oh_!” He felt his face flush and he hopped back another step or two so as not to give the wrong idea. “No! No, no, no!” he said with a frantic wave of his hands, “I only meant that I’ve never, uh, seen anyone as attractive as… What I meant, was…erm… You’re not ‘beautiful’ in that sense… Well, you _are_ but I don’t… Uh… What I meant was—” 

“You’re still talking too much,” she interrupted, “That will get you killed one day.” She then sighed, and spun on her heel. “Take one last good look, Farmer, for it will be your last. I shall be on my way, then.”

A part of him wanted to say good riddance. This woman was clearly unstable. And there was only so much he could take of her grumpy attitude. But as she began to walk away, he noticed the slight limp in her gait. It was the kind of limp one would have if they were trying _very_ hard to hide a much worse injury.

“Wait!” he called after her, “I can…give you something to eat, if you’d like. It’s a long journey to the nearest town.”

“I am perfectly capable of providing food for myself,” she growled.

“With an injured leg?” She stopped at that, turning to shoot him a furious glare. Wilhelm held his ground. “The girls have been laying more eggs than normal lately,” he said, spreading his arms out to gesture to all the chickens wandering around, “I’ve got more than I know what to do with. I’d be more than happy to make something up to tide you over until the next town.”

She held that glare, looking him up and down. No doubt sizing him up, which given his scrawny physique and short stature, gave her the confidence to turn around. “ _Fine_ ,” she stated curtly, “But then I will leave. I cannot stay here for long.”

He nodded, allowing a warm smile to spread from cheek to cheek. “I’m Wilhelm, by the way. Wilhelm Hresvelg.”

Her eyes narrowed just a little more, and suddenly he felt very small under her scrutinizing gaze. “Seiros,” she eventually replied.

— — — 

“So at least let me look at that leg before you head out.”

Wilhelm had prepared a modest meal for his surprise guest, just scrambled eggs with some herbs and mushrooms he had managed to forage. He wouldn’t call himself a master cook by any means, but he made due. He certainly had the time to practice. And despite her stern exterior, Seiros seemed to enjoy the food, wolfing it down like she hadn’t eaten in days.

Or…perhaps that was the case. She hadn’t told him anything about herself.

She uncorked her canteen and took a swing from it, before levelling him a warning glare. “I am fine,” she stated cooly, “I thank you for your hospitality, but now I must go.”

She moved to stand from the table, but the moment she put weight on her leg her knee buckled and she collapsed back down into the chair. “ _Dammit_ ,” she hissed as she gently massaged the knee. As she pulled away the brace, Wilhelm winced when he spotted a particularly nasty bruise and scar from her kneecap going about halfway down her calf. He then watched in amazement as her hands started to glow with a soft green light, which seeped into the skin around the damaged limb.

After a few moments, the magic stopped and Seiros rose with ease this time. “There. _Now_ I am fine,” she said.

“I don’t know… My brother had an injury like that once,” Wilhelm said with worry, “Cow kicked him. He struggled with it for _years_ afterward.”

“I am fully capable of taking care of myself,” Seiros grumbled.

“I don’t doubt that, but… I just want to help,” Wilhelm replied earnestly, “You’re more than welcome to stay here for a couple of days, until your injury’s a little better. I don’t mind the company.”

“Well _I_ do,” she snapped. But when she saw the way he retreated, her gaze softened. “I’m…I’m sorry,” she atoned, “It’s been a rough couple of years for me, and… It was wrong to take my anger out on you. You’re the first kind person I’ve encountered since I started my journey.”

Wilhelm frowned, his heart aching at the thought. “Where are you headed, anyway? And why the rush?” he asked.

Seiros drew a deep breath and looked away, tracing the leatherwork on her flask as a distraction. “I’m going to…nowhere in particular,” she sighed, “ _Running_ would be the better term for it, I suppose. There was an…incident. An attack and I… I’ve been running ever since. That’s why I cannot stay for long. They’re _still_ following me, and I don’t wish to bring undue harm to those who get close to me.”

“I’m…I’m sorry to hear that,” Wilhelm told her, “But you don’t have to worry about me. Stay a few days, get some rest, and then you can head out when your strength is back. I can handle myself.”

She scoffed, and the first hint of a smile made its way to her face. “With that rusty old axe?” she asked with an eyebrow raised.

“And my army of chickens,” he said with a confident grin.

Now a _real_ smile formed as she shook her head at his poor joke. And it was beautiful. Just that subtle grin brought so much warmth and light to her face, and Wilhelm swore at that moment that for as long as he knew her, he would try to preserve that smile.

“You’re a bit of a fool, you know that?” she asked dryly, though there was levity in her voice that hadn’t existed before.

He shrugged. “Well, I _was_ practically raised in a barn,” he said simply, “It was expected.”

She huffed out a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Foolish and bold. That’s never a good combination,” she commented. She let out a heavy sigh, the smile fading quickly from her expression. “It’s been…so _long_ since I’ve met anyone I could trust,” she admitted softly, “I don’t know how you’ve managed that.”

“Well I don’t like to brag, but I’m a pretty likeable guy,” he said with a grin. But when he noticed the serious, almost somber look in her eyes, he sobered. “You have my word that you’ll be safe here. We’re so far out in the middle of nowhere, and while I might not have the best fighting experience I still vow to keep you safe,” he said sincerely.

She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised as a sign of her skepticism. “And how much of that experience have you had?” she challenged.

“Well… None,” he answered, “But I could figure it out in the heat of the moment. I’m a quick learner.”

“Quick wit alone won’t protect you against the enemies I’ve amassed,” she replied in a low mutter, “They won’t rest until they’ve spilled my blood all over the ground.”

He held out his hand. “You have my word,” he repeated.

She eyed him suspiciously. “Why do _you_ care?” she asked slowly, “A mysterious stranger breaks into your barn, attacks you, and has been nothing but hostile to you until she admitted she has dangerous enemies tracking her, and you still wish to help her? Most people would have insisted I leave by now.”

He merely shrugged. “My mother had a saying,” he said, “‘A tree is known by its fruit; a man by his deeds.’ I’d much rather be known for helping people when they need it than some self-serving coward.”

Her eyes widened as her gaze clouded over, as if she were lost in a memory. After a moment, she spoke quietly: “My…my mother had a similar saying: ‘To show compassion is to show true strength, for it is an act that helps others first, and yourself second.’ I…I am afraid I haven’t been following her advice lately…”

“Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed about,” he assured her gently, “Being through hard times can harden our hearts. And if you go it alone, it can make things worse. That’s why we have to help each other.”

Slowly, that wonderful smile made its way back to her face. She reached out and took his hand, giving it a small squeeze. “You’ve convinced me,” she said softly, “I’ll stay, for a few days.”

She let him go and he eagerly went to begin gathering supplies. “Great! I’ll get you set up in here, then, and I’ll sleep in the barn. Wouldn’t be a good host to make a guest stay outside, now would I?”

She chuckled softly at his energy. “Wilhelm?” she called after him, causing him to pause for a moment. Their eyes met, and for the first time in a long time Seiros didn’t feel afraid. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a brief pause to jump back to Wilhelm and Rhea. I want to explore their relationship and how it grew and sort of weave it in here, because it felt too relevant to put aside in a standalone fic. Maybe once this is over I'll revisit these chapters and organize them into a small collection.
> 
> Also you may have noticed that I have now given my chapters titles! When I made the decision to include these chapters with Wilhelm and Rhea I realized that it might work better for organizational purposes to give the chapters titles, as the more of these interludes I put in the more out of sync the chapter numbers are going to be.


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